


To Your Health

by yolanndi_azalien



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Bank Robber AU, Bit violent soz, F/F, Katya’s got her pants on the runway hair obviously, Lesbian AU, NSFW, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, age gap, cis girl katya, cis girl trixie, hot dykes with guns, mental health, mentions of abuse, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-08-30 01:32:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16755313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yolanndi_azalien/pseuds/yolanndi_azalien
Summary: “You can take my car?”Katya looked behind her to see the blonde she’d had at gunpoint only seconds ago standing there, keys looped round her index finger. She looked frightened, but there was something else in her eyes too, something Katya couldn’t put her finger on.Alternatively: You ever meet a hot dyke at the bank and fall so hard you let her take you hostage and torch your Mini Cooper?





	1. Make Mine A Pain In The Neck

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is a bit darker than the stuff I’ve written before, but I’m really excited about it!  
> To Your Health is a very fitting song by Keaton Henson  
> The premise of this is based hugely on Stockholm Syndrome, a book series by Richard Rider that I would heavily recommend. It probably won’t follow the plot line much after this initial chapter, but it’ll still definitely have the same kinda vibe, and have references to it!  
> Hope you enjoy!

The alarm was deafening. Katya was going to go insane any second now, lose any tether to reality she still had for good. She tried to control her heart palpitations to form a train of thought coherent enough to put a plan together as she quickly looked around the room, meeting the eyes of Pearl briefly through their balaclavas. The alarm had been sounding for ten seconds, and Katya knew from the position of the bank in relation to the police station that that meant she had just under two minutes left before the police arrived and they were done for. They were usually already out of the building before this happened, and now there was a fat cunt with a gun blocking their exit.  
“You stupid bitch!” Violet was screaming at the bank teller, who was crying now, hands raised again from the break they had taken to hit the panic button. She had her gun trained on the woman, but even from across the room Katya could see her hands shaking, the gun threatening to fall. The security guard blocking the doorway was shaking too, making his gun almost more threatening as it moved between the three girls haphazardly.  
“You’re going to stay right here,” he barked, and Katya could have commended his voice for staying strong. “You’re going to stay right here until the police come, do not try to move. Put your guns down!”  
Katya laughed lowly in her throat, and she grabbed the back of the dress of the girl crouched on the floor nearest to her, who’s big blonde hair was shaking. She was too conspicuous looking, like a fucking target, practically begging for trouble. She hauled the girl up beside her with a strong arm around her waist and jabbed the barrel of the gun under her chin, probably hard enough to bruise. She could hear the girls laboured breathing, and heard it stop as she held her breath when the gun made contact with her.  
“No, actually. You’re gonna let us go, sir, because we aren’t afraid to leave a few fatalities.” Katya laughed. She was lying, in years of doing this they had never killed anyone. They had always planned it so meticulously they never had to, and she cursed herself in her head for allowing this level of slipping up to happen. They had failed to disarm the security guard when they came in and still had shock factor, they had failed to immobilise the people who could reach the panic buttons, they had failed like they hadn’t since they were a lot younger and worse at this.  
They only had a minute and a half left.  
She could hear scuffling from her right hand side, didn’t have to look to know Violet was repeating Katya’s actions with the damn bank teller, who let out a wail that nearly pierced Katya’s eardrums. Pearl cocked her gun at the security guard, laden with bags of money.  
“You gonna drop that gun and let us through, fatass? Or are we gonna have to blow right through you?”  
There had never been a sweeter sound of victory than his gun hitting the floor.  
The girls scurried out, Violet hopping the bank counter and leaving the teller behind, Katya dragging the blonde with her just in case the guard got any ideas before they got out of there. She took a second to kick him in the shin as she passed, causing him to yell out in pain.  
“Be thankful it wasn’t a fucking bullet.” She hissed. “Pleasure doing business with you!” She yelled into the building before taking to follow Pearl and Violet, who were already nearly at the car. As she had been worried about, the guard had other ideas, and the sound of bullets firing after her nearly caused her to trip and stumble. Five in quick succession, and she knew his gun was empty. Amateur. She heard the girl whimper beside her, and she shoved her away carelessly, starting into a run to catch the other girls. Just as she did, she heard a scream from Violet, and her breath caught as she reached the car to see a bullethole in the window and the crumpled body of their getaway driver lying across the drivers seat, brain matter rained across the windshield.  
Forty five seconds.  
“Fuck!” She yelled, kicking the car angrily, hard enough to cause her toes to ache instantly.  
“Do we have time to move him?” Pearl said, and the near retch halfway through her sentence betrayed her ability to.  
“It’s our best bet.” Even Violet’s tone was panicked.  
“We’re already running on too little time, the police will be here any second.” Katya said, trying to breathe through her nose and form a plan, any fucking plan, or a fucking miracle maybe, thirty seconds, thirty fucking seconds-  
“You can take my car?”  
She looked behind her to see the blonde she’d had at gunpoint only seconds ago standing there, keys looped round her index finger. She looked frightened, but there was something else in her eyes too, something Katya couldn’t put her finger on. She couldn’t see why the fuck this woman would be trying to help them, but she was in no position to turn it down.  
“You drive.” She said raggedly, pointing the gun at her again, and then the girl was directing them into the bright pink mini parked right in front of their car, shaky hands turning the keys in the ignition as Katya kept her gun trained on her. The other two and the bags of money they had been carrying were wedged into the back seat, and Katya tried to even out her breathing as the woman began speeding up the road, following Katya’s gruff directions to the indoor carpark five miles away. She had kept her eyes trained on the road, not looking at Katya, shoulders up to her ears as she screeched round the streets.  
No one had died before.  
Nearly twenty years of robbing banks, jewellery stores, gas stations- no one had ever died. They had been injured, sure, especially at the start, the girls had to learn to sew each other up from fighting security guards, fired warning shots at peoples feet, had barely got away more than once, but they had never fucked up to this level. They had been cocky, careless after the last few had gone by without a hitch, and now a man was dead.  
Was it fucked up that Katya was more upset about ruining their perfect moral track record than the loss?  
They pulled into the empty top floor carpark and as they got out of the car and wordlessly began hauling the bags across the space to the back of their van, Katya noticed the woman was just standing there, staring at her.  
“Why do you switch cars?”  
Katya turned to look at her, and really took her in for the first time. She was like a cartoon, her makeup painted on to the ridiculous level that she looked unreal. She was in a baby pink shift dress, and her hair was so big Katya was sure the police would find them on that alone. Her white cowboy boots shifted as she leant her weight on her right hand side, making her hip pop out as she stared at Katya, waiting for the answer to her question as if this was a perfectly normal conversation. She made Katya very uneasy. She looked like an acid trip gone bad. It was disgusting.  
“No cameras up here. Nearest CCTV cam is down the street. We drive one car in, we drive this one out, no way to link them.” She answered, and the woman nodded.  
“Does this mean I can’t drive this one? Will they think I did it?” She said, gesturing to her mini. Katya shrugged.  
“Well, we’re torching it. Bad enough we left the other car on the scene.” She grabbed a wad of cash from the bag she was taking from the car and threw it at Trixie. “Buy yourself a new one.”  
Trixie stared at the thick wedge of banknotes for a minute before throwing it back to Katya, who just barely caught it while holding the bag.  
“You’re alright. Do I just walk from here? What does this mean for me?”  
Katya could see Pearl pouring petrol over the mini from the Jerry can they had in the back of the van, could see Violet holding the match ready to spark as Pearl made a trail of petrol a safe distance away.  
“It means you go to the police station, tell them we held you hostage and made you drive us here, and you didn’t see where we went. You can go. The witnesses at the bank will back up that we took you. You’re fine, kid.” She didn’t have to clarify that the woman would deny seeing the van. Her willingness to help them drive here was enough to know she wouldn’t give away anything, even if that in itself was quizzical, and even in the car the gun Katya kept pointing at her was only really a formality, was more to keep Katya grounded in reality than to keep the woman on track.  
“But what if I don’t want to go?” The woman asked, her expression not changing. Katya’s brow furrowed as she tried to comprehend her question. She could vaguely see the mini catch light in the corner of her eye, could hear Violet and Pearl’s rushed footsteps.  
“What?”  
“I don’t want to go.” The girl huffed, as if it was obvious, as if she wasn’t being fucking ridiculous right now.  
“Zamo!” Violet barked from behind the steering wheel, causing Katya’s head to snap back to the van. “Up and out bitch, we’re wasting time!”  
Before she even turned her head back to the woman to tell her to leave, she was climbing into the back of the van in front of Katya’s very eyes, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles backpack thrown over her shoulder, dress hitching up to reveal lacy My Little Pony underwear and the curve of where her ass met her thigh. Katya looked back at the flaming mini, and climbed in after her.

“Why the fuck is Malibu Barbie still here?” Pearl asked from the passenger seat, eyeing her through the rearview mirror as Violet started pulling out of the carpark. They had taken their balaclavas off, which reminded Katya she was still wearing hers, and she pulled it off with relief as she collapsed down onto one of the benches that lined the walls of the van, ready to run her hands through her now very sweaty hair. The woman sat right opposite her.  
“Jesus, Zamo, weird ass place to pick up a chick.” Violet drawled as she switched lanes easily, seemingly already calmed down from the events of the bank. Katya envied her. By contrast, she could still feel the adrenaline course through every inch of her body just as strongly as she had five minutes ago. She couldn’t stop her leg bouncing off the floor. She looked at the ‘Barbie’ to meet her eyes pouring over every inch of Katya’s now exposed face, mouth open slightly as she took in Katya’s sharp cheekbones and choppy blonde bob. Katya knew she was attractive, although at forty five didn’t think she’d be on this girls radar. She couldn’t be more than twenty, her brown eyes shallow, if still wild with adrenaline.  
“I don’t fucking know why she’s still here.” Katya spat, narrowing her piercing blue eyes at the girl. “Guess she’s got a death wish or something.”  
“Nah.” The girl answered simply, flicking her eyes to the front, meeting Pearls in the mirror. “I’m just bored.”  
Violet snorted. “Helping bank robbers is a weird way to deal with boredom, kid.”  
“Couldn’t be weirder than being a bank robber, could it?” She retorted, and Katya nearly laughed despite herself.  
“Hey, I know you.” Pearl said suddenly, narrowing her eyes at the girl as Violet pulled off onto the freeway, driving them out of the city.  
“Don’t think so.”  
“Yeah, I do. What’s your name?”  
“Trixie Mattel.” Katya laughed out loud then, and the girl- Trixie- shot her a glare.  
“I think she meant your real name, Barbie.” Katya laughed.  
“That is my real name!” Trixie said indignantly.  
“Mattel could not be a real name. Or Trixie.”  
“Well it is, so-“  
“That’s who you are!” Pearl exclaimed with sudden realisation, causing the two bickering blondes to look back over at her. “I saw you on Saturday Night Live last year, I knew I knew you! You were on with your parents, right?”  
Trixie sighed with exasperation, rolled her eyes as if it’s a conversation she’d had one too many times. Katya imagined she had. Maybe that’s why she’s so bored she has to hop in the back of a van full of bank robbers.  
“Why were your parents on Saturday Night Live?” Violet questioned, still not lifting her eyes off the road.  
“Oh, it was nothing.” Trixie shrugged, looking down at her hands. “They won ten million in the lottery.”  
Violet nearly crashed the van.

It took nearly two hours to drive to the safe house, a bungalow outside Chicago Katya had bought a few years ago. It was modest, but contained all that was necessary for the few days they’d spend there before hitting another bank in Chicago and doing the long drive back to New York. They never hit home, always drove away. They enjoyed the safety that lay within their own state and being able to flee back there. If Katya was honest, she was ready to go back now.  
During the drive, they had formulated the plan. The fake kidnapping of Trixie Mattel, to the ransom of two hundred thousand dollars. Katya hated the idea, they weren’t kidnappers, she kept saying, they were fucking bank robbers, and the payoff wasn’t worth it, but Pearl and Violet were wrapped up in the thrill of a new kind of plan, and Trixie was ecstatic, and Katya’s complaints were ignored. She felt a bit more petulant about that than she should at her age, but her role as the leader of their little group was generally respected, and she was pissed off. She hated Trixie too. She was loud and boisterous, like Katya had been when she was young, and it was infuriating. She chewed bubblegum loudly and her overdrawn face gave Katya a headache. As they sat now, on the sofa in the living room as Pearl and Violet took the first turns showering in the two bathrooms, she was reading a trashy celebrity gossip magazine Katya could have sworn wasn’t in the house before, and poking her toes into Katya’s thighs as she tried to watch TV. She was even taking up twice as much space on the sofa as Katya, leaning her back against the armrest with her legs pushed out in front of her, digging into Katya’s legs and humming way too loud for Katya to even be able to focus-  
“Do you ever shut the fuck up, even for one second?” Katya snapped, turning her head to glare at the younger girl. Trixie didn’t look up, simply shook her head and kept humming. Katya got up suddenly, swatting Trixie’s feet away to walk over to her jacket and retrieve her packet of cigarettes, most of which she had smoked on the van drive home. She felt Trixie’s eyes on her then, watching how the handle of the gun poked out of her jacket pocket when she dislodged it getting her cigarettes, watching her light one and take a deep first puff, blowing right at the smoke detector that she’d disabled long ago.  
“When do I get a gun?” Trixie asked, and Katya turned to her.  
“Excuse me?”  
“A gun. Do I need one now I’m part of your gang? Or am I all good until we’re actually robbing somewhere?”  
Katya scoffed, taking to leaning against the wall rather than trying to sit back down beside Trixie. Trixie didn’t seem to mind, taking the opportunity to spread out fully, wiggling her little toes against the other armrest. Her toenails were painted electric pink. Who is so annoying they even have annoying toes?  
“You’re not ‘part of our gang’, Trixie. This isn’t fucking Oliver. You’re in on this one scheme, and then you’re out.”  
“Oh.” Trixie said, staring at the ceiling. She sounded sad. She flipped herself over to her stomach, kicking her legs back and forth behind her absentmindedly, still flicking through the magazine. “But I like this.”  
“Sounds like a whole lot of your own problem.” Katya said round her cigarette, keeping her eyes trained on the TV and trying not to look at how Trixie’s dress had ridden up again to reveal milky white thighs and her round ass. “This isn’t some fucking playground game. We know what we’re doing. We’re good at this. We don’t need some kid fucking it up.”  
Trixie looked up again, halting her legs momentarily.  
“Sorry, who saved your ass today? I believe it was some kid.” She gloated, and when Katya looked over at her, she saw her eyes gleaming. Her blonde hair was tumbling down her shoulders, spilling all over the sofa around her, ass pushed up slightly as if she knew full well her dress was round her waist and she was showing Katya all the My Little Ponies at once. She looked like a fucking Playboy bunny. Katya was going to be sick.

When the three girls crowded round the table later that night, trying to make sense of blueprints and the map outs of security cameras they had made in preliminary visits to the bank earlier that week, they decided to sit this one out. They were all too shook up from that days events to be trying to put anything together, and Katya insisted they had to be cool, calm and collected, they all knew that wasn’t a possibility right now. They hadn’t known the getaway driver all that well considering, he was a guy they’d worked with now and then over the past decade, and they trusted him, but not much further than that. Even still, Katya knew she’d have a hard time getting the image of his blasted skull out of her mind, and none of them had even dared to wonder aloud what would happen if he was traced to them, if the police worked out he was the getaway car, if forensics got it. None of them needed to verbalise what this could mean for them. She had driven to the nearest store earlier and picked up three cartons of cigarettes, excessive even to her, but she’d plowed through them with reckless abandon during the evening and had even smoked a joint with Pearl in her attempts to calm herself. Trixie had barely left them alone, wanting in on the action and the planning, until Violet snapped at her and told her to piss off and play with her dollies. It was a little uncalled for, Katya thought, even if she would have probably done the same thing if she wasn’t so tired. Still, Trixie had huffed and went away, so it had at least worked. They decided they’d stay in the house for a few days, until they got the money from Trixie’s parents and could send her on her way. The banks could rest easy for now.

Katya was lying on her back on the sofa, smoking a joint to herself and blowing the smoke up into the air, imagining it hitting the ceiling. She couldn’t get her heart rate to return to normal. She was always like this after, she could never settle like Violet. Pearl was similar, but the drugs actually worked on her. The smoke was just making Katya feel hazy.  
“I don’t think they’ll pay.”  
The words startled Katya, who had believed she was on her own. She looked over at where Trixie stood, leaning against the doorway. She had her hair wrapped up in a bun that was basically the same size as her head, in an old Grateful Dead shirt Katya recognised as one of her own from the drawer she’d shown Trixie earlier when she’d asked for pyjamas. All her makeup was off, and it made her look older somehow now she looked like a human. Her pale legs went on forever, mostly exposed because she was just wearing- fuck, she was wearing Katya’s boxers. Katya blinked for a minute, maybe a little more stoned than she’d thought.  
“Your parents?” She asked finally. Trixie nodded.  
“I don’t think they care enough.” She sighed. “It’s not like- I’m not trying to be all sob story about it, it’s just the facts.”  
Katya looked over at the clock to see it was nearly 2am. She knew Pearl and Violet would be asleep by now, not kept awake with their unshakeable adrenaline like Katya. Fuck, she could run a marathon right now, if it wasn’t for her fatigue. Instead, she just swung her legs off the sofa as a wordless invitation, which Trixie took, padding across the living room to sit beside her.  
“I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t mean to lead you guys into something pointless like this. They’re just not exactly that attached to me.”  
Katya didn’t really know what to say, so she took another puff of the joint and passed it to Trixie, who took it gratefully. She coughed on her first inhale, and Katya resisted the urge to laugh at her.  
“But they’re millionaires.” She managed, when Trixie stopped coughing. “Why wouldn’t they?”  
“Because I’m their little gay freakshow daughter.” Trixie said, as if it was the simplest thing ever, as if the words didn’t sting her at all as she said them. Maybe they didn’t. Trixie started at the wall opposite them as she spoke, and Katya did too, imagined their gazes like lasers hitting the same spot. “I grew up in like, a dodgy area. Meal ticket kid. We never had money, and if we did, my stepdad drank it- and they’re still the same shitty people now, just with a nicer house and better clothes.” Katya nodded, taking the joint back from Trixie as she continued to talk. “I hate them. I hate the fakeness. I hate how everyone hated me in school and now they want to be my friend because I have nice things and do fun stuff, it’s all so fake. I hate how no one takes me seriously when I say I want to get a job. That’s what I meant. When I said I was bored.”  
Katya looked back at her then. She looks bored, the kind of boredom that makes you exhausted. Or maybe she was just exhausted. Guess it was a pretty big day. Trixie looked at her too, and she wondered what she looks like to Trixie, if her young eyes hone in on Katya’s wrinkles and the deep bags under her eyes and the grey through her hair. She wondered if her eyes were bloodshot from the joints. Trixie’s weren’t.  
“What d’you wanna be?” Katya asked her, genuinely interested in what kind of profession could interest this human barbie doll.  
“When I grow up?” Trixie joked, and Katya had the good sense to smile. “I dunno. Something that doesn’t involve being financially reliant on my least favourite people.”  
Katya vaguely wondered if Trixie would want a job with her hotel chain, but couldn’t imagine her in an office, couldn’t imagine entrusting a single tiny cog of her machine to Trixie. Bad idea. Maybe she could do face painting at a staff do. Katya tried not to laugh audibly at the idea.  
“But, it’s cool.” Trixie continued after Katya had been silent for probably way too long. “Here, I mean. Because you guys don’t care, you’re not like the people in Chicago, you’re not trying to crawl up my ass. Just like at home, but it feels less like a personal attack.”  
Katya snorted, relighting the joint from where it had burnt out.  
“Yeah, I guess it must be a bit of a shock.” She offered the joint to Trixie again for her to dismiss it with a wave of her hand.  
“Yeah, Pearl tripped me up in the hall earlier like a literal high school bully.” Trixie chuckled, but Katya’s skin prickled.  
“Don’t let them treat you like that.” She said, furrowing her brow as she met Trixie’s eyes. “You’re not a victim, we didn’t actually kidnap you, you’re in on this. Don’t let them bully you.”  
There was something unreadable in Trixie’s eyes again, just like earlier when she’d stood offering her keys up to the woman who threatened to kill her like it was nothing. A small smile crept across her lips, and she slowly pulled her legs into a cross legged position, giving Katya a far too clear view of her black boxers cutting into Trixie’s inner thighs where they were too tight. She exerted all willpower she’d ever had to not look between the girls legs.  
“Does that go for you too, Scary Spice?” Trixie whispered, and Katya’s skin was on fire, she was sure, as Trixie leant in slightly for her whisper to be heard, breasts jiggling gently under her shirt and her knee pressing against Katya’s. “Or do you just like keeping your attack dogs in line so you can do all the biting?”  
Katya shook her head, eliciting a loud and obnoxious laugh from Trixie, and stubbed the end of the joint out before standing.  
“Shut up.” She said simply as she walked to the doorway, flicking off the light and leaving Trixie in the dark.  
“What’s your name?”  
Katya whirled back round again. Through the dark she could only see Trixie’s silhouette. She hadn’t moved from her position, still with her body pointed where Katya was.  
“What?”  
“Your name. I know Pearl and Violet’s, but they only call you Zamo. Is that short for something?”  
Katya thought for a minute. Trixie not knowing her name was a nice little barrier between them, keeping her distant-  
“Katya.” She conceded anyway. “My name’s Katya. Zamo’s short for my last name.”  
She saw Trixie nod, open her mouth to start to speak, but Katya was already turning her back on her, on her way to bed.


	2. Here’s To You, You Old Wreck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh!!!! You guys!!!! The response to that first chapter was so amazing, thank you all so much, it’s really lovely to see ♥️♥️♥️ This chapter gets a lil dark, sorry not sorry

Katya was back in New York, getting ready to fly to Los Angeles on a business trip. She owned a chain of hotels that stretched across the world, and was in a comfortable enough position with enough staff to not have to do much work, but she did anyway. She liked flying around, visiting various hotels she owned, always keeping herself in travel often enough that no one noticed her take weeks here and there to travel across America incognito to take down banks. It was a good cover, she had enough money from her legitimate work that the bank money barely made a difference. She didn’t do it for that reason, she craved the rush and adrenaline of holding a gun in her hand, making people scared, breaking the law. Pearl was similar, came from a rich family who were mostly all dead now, and she invested in paintings and art and expensive country manors that people paid a lot of money to visit. Violet was the only one who differed from the eccentric rich lady dynamic, performing in local bars and modelling and allowing the taxman and the people in her life to believe she lives off handouts from her two rich friends. She rents a shitty flat downtown for legal believability, but lives instead in the penthouse of a block of apartments in Manhattan with Pearls name on the lease and her share of the bank money paying the bills. The three girls had known each other since they were teenagers. They had met eachother outside a gay bar in Manhattan that none of them had believable enough fake ID’s to get into, and had bonded over a fancy bottle of wine and a packet of cigarettes Pearl had stolen from her mom. They had been best friends ever since.  
Katya looked at the only picture on her desk fondly as she stacked papers together, ready to go into her briefcase. It was a picture of her, Pearl and Violet, when they were only twenty, 1993, the grainy quality nearly hiding their questionable haircuts and outfits. They were all crowded on Violets moms sofa, smiling widely. It made Katya smile now, a tricky feat lately.  
The getaway drivers death made the papers, and luckily for them, it seemed the police had no reason to believe that he was anything but in the wrong place at the wrong time. His constant insistence to remain unarmed when they were on a job had seemed ludicrous to them before, but it turned out, had been beneficial after all. The security guard was facing manslaughter charges for the accidental shooting of a member of the public during a robbery. It felt like a last fleeting gift from Steven, as if he was covering their backs from the grave, as reliable as ever. It did little to help Katya sleep.

Trixie had been ‘released’ two weeks ago. Since then she’d been on countless talk shows, where her mother pretended to cry and Trixie recounted fake stories of brutish men who’d held her captive. Katya had watched all of them.  
Trixie was a good liar, Katya thought, seeing tears well up in her eyes as she talked about how she’d been tied to a chair, how the five days had all blurred into one. The five days really had blurred into one, a mess of Pearl and Violet fighting over the TV, Katya working avidly on her laptop and pretending to ignore Trixie’s whines of how bored she was, how she wanted to go for a walk or to the shop until Katya had conceded and disguised her in a headscarf and big sunglasses to go on a drive. Trixie had played music too loud, made them too conspicuous, but every time Katya turned it down she turned it right back up again.  
Katya was happy to be free of the girl, really. She had driven her mad over the five days, infuriated her to the point she nearly slapped her more than once. She had joked with Violet that she’d be willing to PAY two hundred thousand dollars to get rid of her at this point, fuck the ransom. Trixie had heard her, had stormed out of the kitchen with tears in her eyes as Violet cackled, and Katya had felt so bad she avoided Trixie for the rest of the day.  
She was happy to be free of her, Katya would have insisted to anyone who cared, if anyone did. Even still, she couldn’t tear her eyes off the TV when Trixie was on it. Watching her interact with her family, seeing the believability of her lies slip when she had to fake affection and say she had missed them. Katya was certain she’d missed her extensive makeup collection and having her own clothes a great deal more. Katya wondered if she was happy, and then mentally slapped herself for caring, and turned off the TV.

She was waiting in a coffee shop in the airport for her flight to LA when her phone rang. She was anxious, leg bouncing off the ground from nicotine deprivation, very close to making her way through customs again just to go outside for a cigarette. She was scrolling through a PDF file for the accounts in her LA branch on her laptop as she accepted the call without looking at the number.  
“Yekaterina Zamolodchikova?” She said in a monotone, greeted straight away by a honk of laughter at the other end of the line.  
“Ek-trina? What the fuck? Is that your real name?”  
Katya let out a groan of dismay at Trixie’s voice.  
“What is it, pipsqueak?”  
“I can’t believe you laughed at me for being called Trixie when your name is Ek-trina Zamolodshewawa.”  
“It’s Russian, Trixie.” Katya sighed, shutting her laptop as the letters became waves in her vision.  
“Oh wow. You never told me you were Russian.”  
“First generation. What do you want?”  
“Rude. I just wanted a chat. I miss you.”  
Katya rolled her eyes, looking out at the coffee shop she was sitting in. All types of people were milling around, most looking exhausted, full families with several children, businessmen. She knew she drew no attention here despite the red soles of her heels and the expensive perfume wafting around her. It was comforting. She didn’t want to draw attention, she could feel the back of her neck sweating from the danger of speaking to Trixie over the phone. She had told her not to call her, had only given her the number in case of anything going wrong, had made her save it under a fake name. She didn’t want anyone tracing them together. She heard Trixie laugh over the line and realised she’d probably been silent for a beat too long.  
“Actually, I did want to tell you that I convinced my stepdad I didn’t want the police investigating the kidnapping.”  
“Was he going to?” Katya couldn’t help her shock. Trixie had assured them her family were distrusting of police, and that she doubted they’d go down any kind of legal route. But then, she’d also thought they wouldn’t even pay the ransom, and that had ended up happening too.  
“Yeah, he got all prideful about it. But I convinced him I didn’t want to relive anything by having to go through a whole investigation yknow, pulled the trauma card, so it’s fine now.”  
Katya closed her eyes, feeling her breath leave her nose.  
“Great.” She said through gritted teeth. “Thank you for calling me to tell me a problem I didn’t know was a problem isn’t a problem anymore. Very helpful.”  
“No bigs. What you doing?” Trixie hadn't seemed to pick up on the sarcasm.  
“I’m at the airport. I actually have to go, I have to board now.” Katya lied.  
“What are you wearing?”  
“Goodbye, Trixie.” Katya sighed, hanging up the phone before she got the chance to speak again. Why the fuck would she ask her what she was wearing? Katya was sweating heavier now as she reopened her laptop, trying to focus on the document in front of her. She was unable to. What was Trixie trying to do? Wind her up with stupid lines like that?  
Against her better judgement, she picked her phone back up again, typing out a text message to Trixie.

Yekaterina  
Matte black louboutins, black cigarette pants, purple shirt. Black blazer.

Trixie’s reply came in seconds.

Trixie  
Sxc. Red lippi?

It took Katya a full thirty seconds to decipher that message. Of course Trixie texted like a five year old. She took a picture of the red lipstick stain she’d left on her coffee cup, and sent it through to Trixie.

Trixie  
Shme its nt kissprf

Katya sighed, and turned off her phone.

By the time she landed in LA, Katya was significantly rattled. Seven hours on the plane had not allowed her to sleep, instead bouncing Trixie’s call and texts around in her head. She could not believe Trixie would be hitting on her. She was twenty, for fucks sake, with the kind of disgusting pink childishness that made Katya imagine necklaces that tarnish your neck green and sticky lollies. Katya was an established business woman more than twice her age, and could not be any more different if she tried. Besides, she could barely stand Trixie as a person, never mind as anything else.  
By the time she finally got to her hotel room, appropriately scurried around by the staff of the hotel who had been pre-warned of her arrival and therefore cleared the top floor suite, all Katya wanted to do was sleep. She lay on top of the bed fully clothed, too tired to even think about investigating the quality of the room. She had nearly drifted off when her phone started to buzz again.  
It was Trixie. She accepted it begrudgingly, snarling out a “What?”  
“Are you always so grumpy? What’s that about?” Trixie was too happy, too chipper, too Trixie. Katya’s head was already going to explode.  
“Only when I’m being hassled by annoying blonde brats.” Katya sighed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose with her eyes squeezed shut.  
“Aww, you never told me you had children!”  
“Very funny.” Katya said in a monotone, trying not to allow her voice to betray the smile that crept up at Trixie’s bad joke. “What do you want? I need to sleep.”  
“I just wanted to check you didn’t die in a plane crash considering you left me on read, but I guess you’re just rude.”  
“Left you on read? What?” Katya narrowed her eyes at the ceiling.  
“Jeez, grandma, do you even know how to work your phone? It’s when you read someone’s message and don’t reply.” Trixie’s tone was lightly scathing, but punctuated with little giggles that showed she didn’t mean it. It didn’t help halt Katya’s annoyance.  
“Some of us just have more important things to do than be glued to our phone texting people we pretended to kidnap, Trixie.”  
“You can say that again, I know I totally do. I really need a wank now.”  
Katya’s eyes widened in shock.  
“Excuse me?”  
“I said I really need a wank, are you deaf as well as old?” Katya blinked at the ceiling at Trixie’s words. She could hear Trixie laughing breathily, a different kind of laugh from any Katya had heard from her before. “Dunno what it is, everytime you’re horrible to me it goes right to my cunt.”  
Katya swallowed. And then she swallowed again. And then she took note of the disgusting amount of sweat threatening to literally drown her. And then she hung up.

Katya was already back in New York the next time she heard from Trixie. The managerial staff in Los Angeles were all dicks who didn’t know how to take direction, and therefore LA had been stressful, stressful enough for her to hire an expensive hooker, who she had sent away the second she got naked. The woman had her toes painted electric pink, and as soon as she noticed that all Katya could see was Trixie, the heave of her breasts saying Trixie, the full curve of her hips saying Trixie. Katya was disgusted with herself, and paid the confused woman in full before making her leave and falling asleep to JML informercials playing on loop over the hotel TV.  
It was only a few days later, and she ignored Trixie’s first call while sitting at her desk in her home office. The large, undecorated room was cluttered and impossible to navigate to anyone else, but Katya knew exactly where everything was, simply never finding enough shelf space for all the documents and books about business and hotel management she hadn’t opened in years. But, she knew where they were in amongst all the waist high piles of stuff littering the floor. Honestly. She lit a cigarette at the second call, and by the third call, she had smoked two more.  
“This better be important.” She snapped instantly.  
“It is, actually. Can I come see you?”  
Trixie’s voice was different. She sounded- nervous? Katya realised that even in the peculiar circumstances they spent those five days in, she hadn’t heard Trixie be nervous since she’d held a gun to her head.  
“Why?” She asked, trying to keep her tone level as she batted at the Newton’s Cradle on her desk.  
“I need- I need to leave, Katya. I can’t be in this house anymore. I don’t have anyone else to go to. Please?”

Katya had to wonder what grandiose breech of sanity led her to be sitting in her car outside JFK Airport, waiting for Trixie. She’d nearly driven away twice, ready to block Trixie’s number and leave her stranded, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do that. Guess she wasn’t a bona fide evil person yet.  
When Trixie walked out of the terminal, she was glad she didn’t.  
The girl looked so downtrodden it was impossible to compare her to the disgusting bubblegum pink hallucination of a person she’d met before. She had no makeup on and looked fatigued and harrowed. Her hair wasn’t done, even her clothes were more muted, and her step lacked its usual bounce. Katya didn’t even recognise her at first. She stepped out of the car gingerly, raising a hand at the younger woman so she’d see her. Trixie smiled weakly as she locked eyes with her, and made her way over. She hugged Katya before she spoke, warm and hard, and Katya stood with her hands by her sides awkwardly.  
“Hey.” Trixie said when she pulled away, smiling at her.  
The drive was uncomfortably silent for the first ten minutes, Trixie staring out the window and clutching her backpack to her chest like Katya was going to steal it. Katya wracked her brain for something to say, but her usual insulting way of speaking to Trixie didn’t exactly feel appropriate.  
“Do you want to... talk about it?” Katya managed eventually, voice hoarse from lack of use. Trixie was silent for a minute, before exhaling deeply.  
“My stepdad. He’s not, um, the best person. I don’t want to get into it.”  
Katya nodded as she took a turn, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel restlessly.  
Trixie put the radio on, at a regular volume this time, and they drove the rest of the way in silence.

Trixie’s face only changed from silent introspection when Katya pulled up the driveway. Her house was beautiful, a massive two-story with big windows and an expansive grassy garden. She had bought it basically the second she’d seen it, instantly enamoured by the old red brick and ivy crawling up the side. It made her think of Ireland, or Scotland maybe, like she’d driven so far out of New York that she wasn’t there at all. Pearl and Violet thought she was mad, they couldn’t imagine living this far out of the city, but Katya loved the peace. She loved how she lived far away enough for no one to stop by unannounced, for her working from home to be understandable, for her presence not to be missed if she ended up in different cities for weeks at a time. She thought she saw the beginning of tears shine in Trixie’s eyes for a second as she took it all in, and realised suddenly that if Trixie really needed a getaway this bad, she’d accidentally brought her to the perfect place.  
“I signed the lease in the driveway.” Katya said, breaking the silence as she parked in front of the front door. “Hadn’t even stepped foot in it or looked through a window. It could have been a dump for all I knew. Signed the paperwork on the hood of my car and let the realtor drive off and leave me there with three quarters of a million in cash in his trunk.”  
Trixie laughed gently at that, mouth open as she looked at Katya.  
“I get why.”  
The inside of the house was not so beautiful. It was not, in fact, a dump, but it was certainly basic. Katya had never really found time to decorate, or even to buy proper furniture to replace the outdated shit she’d found there, and had quickly found that she had more rooms than she’d ever conceivably use, and thus the only rooms that even showed signs of life were her office and her bedroom.  
The kitchen was gorgeous though, with a big old solid oak dining table that she’d moved from the dining room rather than buying an additional table, and it’s original stone tiling from however long ago the house was built. The oven and sink had been redone not long before Katya had moved in, so it didn’t feel quite like stepping into the past, but it was at least functionally nostalgic, even if Katya hated how cold the stone floor was when she was barefoot in the morning trying to make coffee. The big French doors looked out over endless fields, but Katya had stopped finding them lovely a while ago. She hated how they were always empty, with nothing growing or any animals grazing, and often wondered who owned them, if she could buy them and a herd of cows, but then she thought about having to hire a farmer or something, and how that would pop her bubble of solitude, and gave up on the idea.  
She bustled Trixie in there before she could see the rest of the house, figuring it was better to start on a pretty note before she saw how drab and dull the rest of it was.  
“D’you want, um, a cup of tea? Vodka? I think I have- no, I have no juice.” Katya said, flipping cupboards open and wishing she’d had the foresight to buy at least some things before her guest arrived. She wasn’t used to being any kind of host. She hadn’t cared in Chicago, the nature of their dynamic meaning she didn’t have to care for what Trixie wanted, but it felt different now that she was in Katya’s own home, and she was sad, and Katya couldn’t find it in her heart to be mean to her.  
“Vodka.” Trixie answered simply from behind her and Katya nodded approvingly, pulling two dusty glasses out of a cupboard and filling them halfway with the vodka she had sitting on the sideboard. She was probably going to need to be drunk, because this situation was making her wildly uncomfortable already and Trixie had only been there less than three minutes. She turned around with the glasses to face her, and found her standing surprisingly close, only about a foot away. Katya flinched slightly, and Trixie raised one corner of her mouth in a sly smile before reaching behind Katya and grabbing the vodka bottle. She unscrewed it, not breaking eye contact, and took a deep swig from the bottle, seemingly unfazed by its strength. There she was, the annoying Trixie, the one who acted out of line and fucked Katya off to no end. Katya wanted to scoff in her face, walk right back out the door and leave her standing awkwardly in the kitchen.  
“Trust the Russian to have the good vodka.” Trixie said raspily as she replaced the bottle on the counter, her throat clearly having a harder time dealing with it than her taste buds. Before Katya had a chance to respond, Trixie was taking both glasses from her hands, setting them beside the bottle, and pressing her lips against Katya’s messily.  
Katya shoved her away, hands on her shoulders propelling her halfway across the room.  
“What the fuck, Trixie?” Katya exclaimed, dumbfounded. Trixie stepped closer again from where Katya’s shove had sent her, and Katya’s brow furrowed incredulously, turning around and knocking back one of the glasses in one go. This wasn’t happening. She didn’t want it to. She felt Trixie’s hand on her lower back, and squeezed her hand against the edge of the counter, watching the knuckles go white as she felt Trixie lean over to whisper in her ear.  
“Tell me you don’t want to fuck me.” She said hoarsely, and Katya could, in good conscience, not.  
She turned her head, meeting Trixie’s big dark eyes, popping out more against her pale skin than they do when she’s covered in makeup. They looked almost glassy, and before Katya knew it, she had her tongue down her throat, turning her around so she was the one against the counter, soft hips pressing so hard into the granite it was bound to hurt. Trixie started moaning into her mouth instantly, and Katya curled her hands into her long blonde hair, wrapping them around the curls and tightening, causing Trixie to moan again. It lit a fire in her belly, but she still pulled away from her.  
“Shut the fuck up, noisy bitch.” She growled, leaning down to attack Trixie’s porcelain neck. Trixie breathless laugh soon turned into gasps as Katya sucked and bit at the skin, and her hands travelled up and down Katya’s back, trying to pull her closer as if she wasn’t already trapping Trixie between her and the kitchen counter. Katya pushed all ‘what the fuck are you doing?’ thoughts out of her head to run through various interactions she’d had with Trixie in her head. The silly girly underwear.  
‘Keeping your attack dogs in line while you do all the biting?‘  
‘Everytime you’re horrible to me it goes right to my cunt.’  
The way her breath had hitched so beautifully when Katya had shoved a gun under her chin.  
Oh yes, Katya decided, she could definitely be rough with this one.  
She sunk her teeth experimentally into Trixie’s neck, and the deep moan confirmed her suspicions. She pressed her lips against the raw skin, and pulled Trixie’s arms around so she could trap her wrists in her hands.  
“Is this what you’ve wanted?” Katya breathed into Trixie’s ear, bringing her wrists above her head and trapping them against the cabinet with one hand while she squeezed one of Trixie’s big breasts with her other. Trixie whimpered underneath her, and when Katya brought her head up to meet her eyes, Trixie was biting down hard on her bottom lip, eyes wide and blown open with lust. “Is this what you wanted from me? Is this what all the phone calls were about?”  
Trixie leaned forward to try and kiss her, but Katya shoved her hip back against the counter and squeezed tighter on her wrists. “Answer me.” She hissed, eyes flickering down across Trixie’s body.  
“Y-yes.” Trixie breathed, and tried to kiss her again. Katya repeated her actions but harder, and Trixie whimpered again as her hip was forced against the hard counter.  
“How long?”  
Trixie was a mess already, breathing deeply and staring into Katya’s eyes with heavy lids. Her lip was red and swollen where she’d sunk her own teeth into it. Katya’s heart was thundering as if she was holding a gun in her hand, and she willed herself not to lose control.  
“Since before I even saw your face.” Trixie answered, and Katya finally kissed her again, hard and messy. She wrangled her free hand up Trixie’s dress to scrape her nails against her stomach, fidgeting with the lacy edge of her bra as she kissed her senseless. Trixie hummed into her mouth and tried to trap Katya’s bottom lip between her teeth, causing Katya to pull her hand away and place it against her throat, squeezing gently.  
“Be gentle, barbie.” She said as she drew away from Trixie’s mouth. “That’s not how good girls behave.”  
In a single fluid motion, Katya released Trixie’s wrists and shoved the hand under Trixie’s dress and into her underwear, sinking her index and middle fingers into her without warning. Her fingers were slim, but Trixie gasped at the sudden intrusion anyway, eyes widening and mouth forming a perfect O as Katya squeezed her throat harder. Katya fucked up into her harshly, watching her face melt and contort with pleasure. She was so wet around Katya’s fingers, and Katya grumbled with approval as she noticed Trixie’s hands were still where she’d put them, pressed obediently to the cupboard behind her head. She released her throat to grab the other glass of vodka on the counter and downed it as she fingered her, making Trixie whine as she lost eye contact with her. The inside of Trixie’s panties were rubbing annoyingly on the back of Katya’s hand as she moved her fingers, and she focused on that feeling while looking as bored as she could, meeting Trixie’s eyes again with startling derision. She leant in for a kiss that Katya again denied, grabbing her throat with such force that her head swung back and hit the cabinet, and Katya chuckled lowly as Trixie predictably moaned at the pain. She fucked her fingers into her harder, slipping a third in and watching Trixie’s eyes roll back as she moved her hips to meet Katya’s thrusts, her moans endless now, moulding into each other before she stopped moaning completely. Her eyes were wide and unfalteringly staring into Katyas as her mouth moved silently, pussy clenching over and over again around Katya’s fingers as she came without a single sound, breathless.  
Katya slipped her hand out from her underwear, wiping her fingers on the fabric of her dress as Trixie leant the back of her head against the cabinet, breathing deeply and reaching for the vodka bottle again. Katya took it after she was done, taking a big swig as she went to pull Trixie’s dress up and over her head. Trixie winced as she did so, and that’s when she saw it.  
There was a massive bruise painting the skin from the front of her left hip and up her side to her ribs, where it darkened before dissipating just before reaching her bra. There was a smaller one at the top of her thigh on her right side, though equally dark and nasty, and when Katya gently used her arm to turn her so she could see her back, she saw an even worse one across her shoulder blade, contrasting harshly with her pale skin and the red marks on her lower back from being pushed against the counter. She ran her fingers over the bruise as she frowned, and when she turned Trixie back to face her, she noticed tears in the big brown eyes. Katya had suddenly never been less turned on in her whole life.  
“Trixie?” She asked, not even sure what she was asking. Who did this to you? Why? What the fuck?  
“I don’t- let me put my dress back on. I want to make you cum, just let me do it with my dress on.”  
“Trixie, I don’t want-“  
“Let me do it!” Trixie yelled, hands shaking as she took her dress back from Katya, pulling it back over her head as she dropped to her knees. Katya swallowed as she watched her rub the tears from her face with the back of her hands, hair messy from redressing, pathetic and unsexy on the kitchen floor.  
“Trixie, I don’t think you should-“  
“Shhh.” Trixie interrupted her. “I can do this.” She muttered quietly, seemingly to herself. Katya grabbed her shaky hands as they unsuccessfully tried to undo the fly of her jeans, held them fast to make her stop. Trixie looked up at her, visibly annoyed, but Katya couldn’t ignore her red rimmed eyes.  
“I’m not asking you to tell me shit.” Katya said assertively, tone level even though her heart was pounding. “You want your dress back on, you don’t want me to see that, then that’s your prerogative, I’ll act like I never saw it. But I don’t want head from a crying girl. You don’t have to do that, Trixie.” It felt weird to be consoling her, if this even was consoling, like even her simple words were the nicest interaction they’d ever had. That wasn’t exactly saying much, but Katya couldn’t help feeling vastly uncomfortable at the switch. Trixie closed her eyes, breathing hard out her nose.  
“I know they make my body ugly.” She said quietly, and Katya sighed, squatting down beside her.  
“That’s not it. Your body- that’s not the problem. There’s nothing I’d like more than to shove your face between my legs and shut you up, I think you know that. I just can’t fuck you while you’re sad, it’s not right.” Katya said, trying to sound sincere. She was sincere, but it didn’t come easy to her. Trixie nodded.

Later, as they sat on the sofas in the dusty living room that Katya hadn’t stepped foot in in at least three months, Trixie told her.  
“He pushed me down the stairs.” She said, not moving her eyes from the TV, as if she was simply commenting on the episode of House Hunters they were watching. She was painting her toenails with the brightest pink Katya had, which was really more of a coral. Katya had looked it out when Trixie was in the shower and left it sitting out in an attempt to sneakily cheer her up without her realising it was intentional, but when Trixie had found it she had given her a smile like she knew exactly what she was doing, and Katya had flushed red with embarrassment and anger.  
“My stepdad, I mean. He pushed me down the stairs. That’s why I have the bruises.”  
Katya nodded slowly, trying to calculate a response. Before she did, Trixie kept talking.  
“That’s why I came here. He hasn’t done shit like that in ages, I thought he’d grown out of it or something, like the whole kidnapping thing brought us closer or some shit. But nah. My friend Willam was over and he heard us kissing and suddenly I was being flung down the stairs.”  
“I’m sorry.” Katya said, and Trixie shrugged, still not looking at her, focusing on her little toe.  
“It’s cool. Should be Willam saying sorry. Fucking bitch ran out and left me to deal with it. Pussy.”  
“Did he ever- um-“ Fuck. Katya didn’t even know how to word the question that had been playing on her mind since Trixie’s teary eyed insistence to get her off earlier. Trixie seemed to get it, though.  
“Like, touch me? Nah, he was never into all that, thank God. Think he thought I was too gross to molest.”  
It sounded like it was meant to be a joke, but Katya didn’t laugh.  
It felt like the end of the conversation, so Katya just nodded and focused her attention back on House Hunters, trying not to imagine her, Pearl and Violet putting their balaclavas on to beat Trixie’s dad with baseball bats, not stopping till they saw blood. And then maybe swinging by Willam’s for luck.  
She put Trixie up in the spare room, which was bleakly decorated with the old metal bed that she’d moved out of the main bedroom to be replaced with her own, and not a lot else. Trixie didn’t complain though, which Katya was surprised about, just smiled bleakly at her before wrapping herself in the sheets without even changing or closing the door. Katya caught herself staring from the doorway, although Trixie didn’t seem to mind, and she shook her head as she turned to go to bed.  
What the fuck was happening?  
As she tossed and turned in restless sleep, all she could see was pink, pink satin sheets, pink fluffy bathrobes, pink Barbies, covered in dark bruises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I’ve literally never written smut before don’t come for me


	3. Mine Is A Thorn In The Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! I don’t endorse drunk driving! Just as I don’t endorse bank robbing or money laundering, or the other things that happen in this story. This is a work of fiction. Just a wee disclaimer xxx hope you enjoy!!!!

Katya didn’t allow herself to think about Trixie when she woke up the next day, even though she was only in the next room. She knew from the house in Chicago that Trixie was not the kind of person to wake up before noon, so when she opened her own eyes at six am, she made a resolute promise to give herself six hours away from the situation.  
She got up and brushed her teeth like she did everyday, and swung the big French doors to her balcony open, sitting on the carpet right at the doorway and smoking a cigarette in her pyjamas. She went downstairs to make a coffee like she did everyday, and winced at the cold stone floor on her bare feet, like she did everyday. She returned to her balcony to do some yoga, and by the time she got in the shower, she was proud of herself for having not thought about Trixie yet. Then she cursed herself out, because she just did, and threw her bottle of shampoo at the wall.  
By eight o’clock she was sat at her desk typing furiously, and it’s there that Trixie found her just before twelve.  
Katya had abandoned her hair halfway through blowdrying it, which meant it was sticking out at one side, and the big smock dress she was wearing had coffee stains on it. She knew she looked a mess. She often didn’t bother when she was in the house, and felt a solid resistance against changing her day to day life because Trixie was there. But it was also maybe a bit more intentional than that.  
Trixie, despite clearly only just having woken up, looked a lot more put together than Katya did. Her hair fell in soft waves down her back, and her little pink shorts and cami top pyjama combo made her look like something from a teenage sleepover wet dream.  
Trixie came and sat on the chair at the other side of the desk, and scrunched her nose up as she took in Katya’s appearance. Katya hoped she thought she was ugly, and old, and that this would stop.  
“What happened yesterday can’t happen again.” Katya said, not looking at Trixie as she typed bullshit on her computer that she’d have to delete.  
“Oh wow.” Trixie scoffed. “Not even a good morning?”  
“You can stay here as long as you like. The house is big, and I’ve got stuff to do. But I don’t want anything like that happening again.”  
Trixie’s face settled into a smug little smile, and Katya narrowed her eyes at her. Did she not fucking understand?  
“Why not? What, am I not your type?” She leant across the table, breasts squeezing together between her arms in her cami. Katya didn’t look.  
“No, actually. You’re not. I don’t tend to go for stupid blonde bimbos, because I’m not fucking disgusting.” Katya said in a monotone, returning her gaze to her computer and starting typing again in furious nonsensical Russian at the end of a document about staff salaries.  
“I would argue that you definitely are disgusting.” Trixie said brightly, clearly not put off by Katya’s harsh words.  
“Don’t you have something better to do, Trixie?”  
“Not really. I wanted to go into New York today, I was hoping you’d maybe take me?”  
She must be joking. Katya stopped typing for a moment, looking at Trixie to see complete seriousness on her face.  
“I’m busy. My keys are in the kitchen, go nuts.” She said, rubbing her temple. Why did she say she could come here?  
“We’re in the middle of nowhere, I don’t know the way.” Trixie replied, raising an eyebrow.  
“The car has GPS. Bye.” Katya said, pretending to turn her attention back to her computer and resuming her nonsensical typing. Trixie let out a big huff, and left the office.  
When Katya heard the car leave an hour later, she stopped pretending to do work, and picked up her phone.  
“Zamo! What’s going on?”  
“Hey, Vi. Listen, can you come over?”

“You did WHAT?” Violet shrieked incredulously, staring at Katya with her eyes bugging out of her head, maybe doing a spittake- that’s how Katya expected Violet to react to the news that she had allowed Trixie to come stay in her house and then accidentally fingered her in the kitchen, but it turns out, it wasn’t that surprising.  
“Okay, so then what?” Violet actually said, expressionless as if Katya had just mentioned that she’d watered a plant or done something else mundane or predictable.  
“Well, that’s just it, Vi, now she’s fucking staying here and she keeps coming on to me and I don’t know what to do about it.” Katya huffed, stirring her coffee with a little more vigour than was probably necessary. Violet eyed her from across the dining table, remaining silent until Katya broke.  
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”  
“You’re just being really weird about this. She’s young and hot and wants to fuck you, I don’t really get what the issue is.”  
“She’s- shes Trixie, Violet. You stayed in the house in Chicago, you know exactly what the issue is.” Violet laughed and nodded in concession.  
“Okay, so she’s an annoying little brat. You knew that before you let her stay here, I don’t see how fucking her is going to make it worse.”  
“I can’t stand her.” Katya sighed, setting her chin on her hand. “She disgusts me. I know she’s only twenty but she’s like a literal child with all that pink bullshit, and no real human being needs to wear that amount of fucking makeup. She’s ridiculous, I don’t want any part of it.” Violet just kept looking at her, and Katya let out a groan and laid her head in her arms on the table. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have let her stay here.” She said, voice muffled by her arms.  
“Tell her to leave, then.” Violet shrugged, and Katya dragged her head back up.  
“I can’t. She’s- there’s stuff going on, I don’t want to have to send her home. Can you take her for a bit? Or do you think Pearl would?”  
“She’s not a kid, Zamo, we don’t have shared fucking custody of her.” Violet laughed. “She’s your issue, I’m not taking her. Put her up in the hotel or something, I dunno.”  
Katya considered that option for a minute. She had been joking asking if Violet would look after her, but she could easily get her a room sorted out at the branch in New York, let her live out her getaway in a way that’s totally guilt free for Katya while still keeping her out of her hair. That wasn’t such a bad idea.  
“Anyway, if you’re done whining about Barbie, do you want to actually start planning?”

Violet had left by the time Trixie got back- despite Katya’s desperate pleas for her to stay to act as a barrier between the two- and despite how Katya prickled and tensed in the kitchen when she heard the door open, Trixie disappeared up the stairs without even speaking. When Katya went out to the hall, the only sign of Trixie being back was the car keys on the sideboard by the door.  
She heard no more from Trixie for the whole night, actually, and eventually she dragged herself to bed after falling asleep at her desk pouring over bank blueprints and finishing the bottle of vodka they’d shared yesterday.

The next morning continued in the same way. Katya got up and smoked and made coffee and did yoga and showered, and she didn’t think about Trixie, her precious six hours off. This morning though, she blowdried her hair until it hung nice and straight in its choppy razor bob, and put on a nice black shirt with stars on over black jeans. She didn’t think about Trixie as she slid on some red lipstick and lined her eyes in black, and she also didn’t think about how she never did that in the house on her own.  
She wasn’t in the office when Trixie found her this time, she was reading in the kitchen with the doors flung open to let in some cool air in the stuffy summer heat. Trixie stumbled bleary eyed over to the coffee maker, and leant her head in her arms on the counter as she watched it kick into gear. She was bent over at a perfect 90 degree angle, ass stretching against her sleep shorts, legs so long and thick. Katya was very interested in her book.  
“Did you have a nice time in New York yesterday?” Katya said timidly, suddenly remembering the way Trixie had stormed out yesterday and how they hadn’t spoken since. She wasn’t sure how she wanted to play this. She was in a good mood this morning, having spent a few hours nestled in French literature, and couldn’t decide if a nice big argument would ruin her good mood or make it a whole lot better.  
“Was fine.” Trixie mumbled, clearly not awake enough for human interaction. “Drive too long, though.”  
“You’re welcome for me letting you borrow my car.” Katya said, deciding that she could at least poke fun at Trixie.  
“You’re welcome for the two hundred thousand dollars you got pretending to kidnap me.” Trixie retorted instantly, clearly not sleep addled enough to not be able to be a smart mouth.  
“Fifty thousand when it was split up, which is what you got too by the way, so shut up.” Katya said, and Trixie laughed as the coffee dinged that it was done. She poured herself a cup and came and sat right beside Katya.  
It was this. This bullshit. Where a normal person would sit opposite, or at least a chair over, Trixie came and sat right up close to her, close enough that she could probably read the book.  
“Why are you reading in German?”  
Okay, she probably couldn’t read the book.  
“It’s French.”  
“You speak French?” Trixie asked, and she was close enough that Katya could smell the damn toothpaste on her breath.  
“No, obviously not.” Katya deadpanned, and Trixie laughed too hard. “Listen, I’m leaving with Violet and Pearl in a few days, so I sorted you out a room in my hotel in the city.”  
Trixie tensed beside her, knuckles round the coffee cup going white.  
“What?”  
“We’re going to Pittsburgh on a job. I called earlier, you can go tonight if you want.”  
“Tonight? But you just said you’re not going for a few days?”  
“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here.” Katya shrugged, turning the page on her book as if she was actually reading it. Trixie was silent for a moment.  
“No offence, but if I wanted to stay in a hotel I would have just rented a room. I wanted to stay with you.”  
Katya looked up at her, expecting huffiness and anger, and instead met insecurity. Trixie’s eyes were brimming with tears, and Katya was flooded with guilt, which was fucking unfair.  
“Well then maybe you should have just rented a room in the first place.” She snapped defensively, returning her gaze to her book. She could practically feel Trixie’s anger before she got up from the table and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Katya shaky and unsettled at the table with her book as if nothing had happened.

A few hours later Trixie came back down the stairs to her. She was glammed up to the nines, like she had been when they’d met, makeup harsh and unforgiving. Her socked feet contrasted the pink velvet skater dress she was wearing, like she’d just got back from a night out and couldn’t be fucked with her heels anymore. She looked at Katya expectantly, where she was still sitting at the table having made very little headway on her book and had smoked about a billion cigarettes trying to focus.  
“I want to come with you.” She said finally, when she realised Katya was clearly not going to initiate conversation. “To Pittsburgh.”  
“What? Trixie, I’ve told you-“  
“You need a driver, right? Extra pair of hands? I can do this, Katya. I want to.”  
Katya looked her over, saw that for once in her life Trixie was being entirely serious. She thought about how insistent she had been to scam her own family, how she had been so willing to give up her car for no reason at all. She thought about the bruises she knew painted her skin under her pretty dress. Katya had been so confused by her gut reaction to seeing them, to hearing where they came from. She didn’t know what it was. She wanted to make it better, but she didn’t know why, or how. She wanted to help. Despite her insistence to Violet and in her own head, she knew Trixie wasn’t just some dumb bimbo, no matter how hard she seemed to try to make Katya believe it. And she knew, however little she wanted to admit it, that she’d be good at this. Maybe this could be how she helped. She nodded slowly.  
“Just this once.” She said, and Trixie’s face turned to glee in an instant, clapping her hands together. “But one wrong move Mattel, I’ll have a bullet through your head.”  
“Oh thank you thank you thank you!” Trixie exclaimed, throwing herself into Katya’s lap and wrapping her arms around her in a bone crushing hug. “I won’t let you down, I swear!”  
Katya just patted her back awkwardly.

“Is this the place?” Asked Trixie as she pulled up outside of the bank.  
“Yep, this is the place.” Snapped Pearl from the passenger seat. They were all more on edge than they’d been in a while given the fuck up of Chicago, and the addition of TRIXIE as their getaway driver was a variable they didn’t really want to have to account for. The other two hadn’t been pleased when Katya had told them she was joining their ranks. When Pearl had angrily asked why, Violet had snickered and whispered something about Trixie being Katya’s fucktoy, and Katya had shut her down with a fierce glare. Tensions were high.  
“How long?” Trixie asked, flicking through her phone.  
“Two, three minutes max.” Katya answered from the backseat, checking her gun to make sure it was loaded.  
“Can you be a bit more specific?” Trixie asked, looking at Katya through the rear view mirror.  
Katya shared an annoyed look with Violet.  
“Two and a half to three minutes.” Violet answered.  
“Call it two forty-five.” Katya shrugged.  
“Two forty-five.” Trixie repeated to herself, and when Katya craned her neck she could see Trixie flicking through her music.  
“No, more.” Pearl added. “Two fifty-four.”  
“Okay, two fifty-four.” She nodded, selecting a track and turning on the car stereo in preparation.  
“Don’t you have a watch?” Violet scoffed. Trixie looked back at her and gave her a lopsided smile.  
“I don’t read too good.”  
Katya was sure she was bright red. She couldn’t wait to get her balaclava on.  
“Okay, you have two minutes and fifty-four seconds, from now.” Trixie hit play, and they got out of the car as inconspicuously as they could as some electro track Katya didn’t know began to play.  
The robbery went off without a hitch, everyone as compliant by fear as they would always be in a perfect world. The girls moved like cats, shooting the cctv cameras into uselessness with perfect precision, raiding the cash desks, in and out like clockwork. As they left the bank, Katya could hear the song end, and as they loaded into the car, Trixie took a second to turn to them and say, calm as you like; “I think you’ll find that was more like three minutes.” Before speeding them away.

Trixie screamed as loud as she could with her head out the top of the cherry red convertible. She had picked it out, and they had paid the guy in cash before they left Pittsburgh. It was stupidly eye catching, which isn’t what you want when you’ve got bags of stolen cash and a revolver in the trunk, but Trixie had been so excited that Katya couldn’t say no. And besides, as she had told Katya matter-of-factly, she owed her a car. Trixie had been blaring music over the stereo the whole way, Roxy Music and David Bowie and Bikini Kill, and drinking a bottle of champagne from the neck. She was so joyously happy that Katya could barely remember the insecure broken girl on the kitchen floor she’d been last week.  
Katya sped round the curves of the back roads she was taking to drive home, smiling to herself as Trixie’s hair whipped around in the wind and she laughed and roared, spilling champagne everywhere. Katya snatched it off her, downing some as she took a dodgy corner, and was surprised to find that Trixie could actually pick nice wine.  
She finally calmed down when they were halfway home, turning on some country bullshit and curling up in the passenger seat, smiling lazily, happy and tipsy.  
“I don’t want to go home.” She said, looking over at Katya expectantly with a wide smile and half-lidded eyes.  
Katya took a different turn, leading the car up a hill to her favourite part of New York.  
Five minutes later, she was pulling up to the edge of a forest.  
It was beautiful here, and she’d accidentally timed it perfectly, just as the sun was setting and the air hung low, mist dancing around the edge of the forest. Katya drove here often. She would sit in the car or just inside the forest, smoke a joint and let herself get lost in the mystical trees. She often imagined herself walking deep into the forest, never coming out again, happy and at home in the fog.  
Trixie let out a deep sigh, turning the music down and taking it in. Katya flicked the headlights on, which was unnecessary because they could see fine, but it made the mist dance and flicker.  
“Wow.” Trixie said, and Katya nodded, lighting a cigarette and grabbing the champagne from Trixie’s lap, taking a deep swig.  
“Yeah.” She said dumbly, and scrambled for more to say, but Trixie was getting out of the car.  
“Is this where you lead me into the forest and abandon me to die?” Trixie joked, audible outside the car due to the lack of roof. Katya laughed and shook her head.  
“Believe me, I’d have thought it through better.” She joked, and Trixie was walking around the car, dancing in the headlights, moving her hips in her all black robbery outfit and waving her arms goofily to the Dolly Parton still playing over the stereo, making Katya laugh more. She walked all the way around the car, and then popped the driver side door open, placing herself in Katya’s lap. Katya was too ran up on adrenaline and champagne to complain, and snaked an arm around her waist, feeling Trixie sigh and settle into her more as she took a deep drag from her cigarette. Before she really realised what was happening Trixie was removing the cigarette from her mouth and throwing it out of the car, and then kissing her, and she was kissing her back. Trixie’s mouth was warm and tasted like champagne. She wrapped her arms around Katya’s shoulders, fiddling loosely with her hair and sighing gently into her mouth. Katya felt warmth flooding her entire body despite the cold air, and decided she could allow herself this, just once more, just feel Trixie’s body and her warmth and her mouth one more time before quitting it for good.  
Katya squeezed her waist and Trixie giggled, getting up and clumsily rearranging herself so she was straddling her. Katya could feel her reach down the side of the seat as their lips rejoined, and suddenly the seat was shooting back away from the steering wheel and careening them backwards so they were nearly lying down. She yelped a bit at the sudden gravitational shift, and Trixie laughed at her, leaving her mouth to press kisses down her cheeks and across her jaw, biting it softly. Katya hummed to herself and took another swig of the champagne, feeling lightly buzzed on it and heavily buzzed by the feeling of Trixie’s hands ghosting across her chest and her waist.  
Trixie made her way down her body slowly, pulling Katya’s T-shirt up to kiss her chest and the top of her small boobs, squeezing them tightly in her hands through her bra as she kissed down Katya’s toned stomach. She slid between her legs so she was sitting on the car floor, looking up Katya’s body as she lifted her phone in one hand and ran her fingers along the edge of her jeans with her other. Katya pushed herself up on her elbows to watch her. She would never normally be this yielding with a woman, let alone a woman like Trixie, she was all about dominance and being in charge, but her head was still swimming from the robbery and the wine and all the excitement.  
“How long do you think you’ll last?” Trixie asked her sweetly, sick little smile across her face as she turned her gaze to her phone and started undoing Katya’s jeans deftly with one hand.  
“What?”  
“Four minutes? Five? I’ve got some Mozart if you need like, fifteen? Thunderclouds is three minutes seven, if you think you can do it, old lady?” Katya opened her mouth with no words coming out, feeling resolutely like a fish. “C’mon, three minutes seven, you can do that.” Trixie laughed. Katya grabbed the champagne again as Trixie pulled her jeans down her legs, and hissed as the cold evening air hit her cunt.  
“No underwear, and you call me a bimbo.” Trixie chuckled, and Katya batted the side of her head lightly, smiling as she did. “Then again, I’m not sure most bimbos have 70’s bushes like that-“  
“Get on with it then, would you?” Katya interrupted, hoping she sounded more in control than she felt. She raised one leg and rested the crook of her knee on the edge of the door, letting half of her leg dangle out the open window. She moved the other so her foot was on the passenger seat, and Trixie’s eyes grew dark and she licked her lips as she saw Katya spread open for her. Katya knew she looked slutty, jeans wrapped round an ankle, shirt still pulled up over her tits, and she knew she must be visibly wet. She reached down and tugged Trixie’s hair sharply when she kept staring. Trixie looked up at her face then, and her intense brown eyes sent a shiver through Katya. She hit play on her phone, and Dolly Parton turned into a crooning woman’s voice, words incomprehensible over the silly pop music beat. Trixie’s mouth was on her cunt in about two seconds, warm and very welcome, and Katya let her eyes close and her head fall back as Trixie licked a thick stripe up her pussy, pausing at her clit and flicking her tongue over it. She repeated the action a few times until Katya’s hand returned to her hair and yanked her to her clit, and Trixie laughed breathily against her sensitive skin as she did as she was told, licking and kissing and sucking gently at the bundle of nerves.  
Katya groaned and ground her hips into Trixie’s face, pushing hard at the back of her head so Trixie was mashed right into her cunt.  
‘You’re saying those words like you hate me now,’ Sang a man over the stereo, making Katya prickle uncomfortably as she wondered if Trixie had put it on purposefully.  
Trixie slid a finger into Katya, and then two, and fingered her deep and slow as she flicked her tongue quickly over her clit over and over, and the different rhythms had Katya canting up into her mouth and moaning, and when she looked down she found Trixie’s eyes on her. The eye contact was too much, felt invasive and filthy, but Katya couldn’t look away.  
‘Don’t be afraid of these thunderclouds.’ The man sang, and Katya was on fire under Trixie’s gaze.  
“Good girl.” Katya cooed, desperate for control, nearly crying, wrapping her hand around a bit of hair at the back of her head and tugging so Trixie moaned against her. “Look at you, on your knees for me, so quiet, such a good little slut.” Trixie moaned again at her words, and the vibration caused Katya’s head to fall back again, coming back up to find Trixie’s eyes still on her.  
“Finger me harder.” Katya ordered raspily, and Trixie sped her hand up, eventually matching the speed of her tongue against Katya’s clit, and then Katya was cumming, shifting her hips against Trixie’s face and fingers with wanton abandon before the song was anywhere near done.  
Trixie slept on the drive home, happy and drunk and having been fingered aggressively over the hood of the car, and Katya finished the wine, and smoked all her cigarettes, and wondered why she’d just done that, why she couldn’t stay away.  
She shoved Trixie’s arm harshly to wake her when she parked outside the house. Trixie didn’t shift. Katya groaned in exasperation, and after a few more futile attempts to wake her, she walked round to her side of the car and lifted her out with strong arms under her knees and round her back. She kicked the car door closed and had to shift her in her arms to get a hand free to unlock the front door, and Trixie blinked her eyes open for a minute before smiling and closing them again, curled into Katya.  
Katya was strong, but it still took a lot of effort to get Trixie up the stairs. Nevertheless, she finally slid her into her bed and put the covers over her before standing for a minute and then pulling the covers back off her to remove her shoes. Trixie mumbled something unintelligible and moved a bit as Katya slid her jeans down her legs, and then was motionless again. Katya put the covers back over her and looked over her sleeping form. Her hair had fallen right across the pillow like a gold halo. She was smiling softly, and her eyes were shifting under her eyelids as she dreamt. Her makeup was so much lighter than usual for the sake of going incognito earlier, and Katya supposed she should prefer it. But Trixie didn’t look like herself. She let out a sigh and went to leave the room, flicking the light off on the way.  
“Thank you.” Trixie mumbled from the bed when Katya was in the doorway. Katya looked back for only a moment before she left.


	4. Drink Up, So We Can Both Finally Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to put this disclaimer on this a while ago! I know absolutely zilch about US geography, or the US in general, so if the way I describe some things doesn’t make sense, I’m sorry for my ignorance ♥️ Thank you all so much for the love you’ve shown this you’re all giving me my jush -Yolanndi xo

After putting Trixie to bed, Katya went back downstairs to pour herself a vodka. She sat at the kitchen table with a cigarette as she drank it, staring at the wall opposite, trying to make sense of her situation with Trixie. She could not.  
On one hand, Trixie was intolerable. She was loud and over the top and annoying, grating to be around or even to look at. Over the few days between Katya agreeing she’d take her to Pittsburgh and doing so today, she had been nothing but in the way, spewing unhelpful suggestions when they were planning with Pearl and Violet, asking too many stupid questions, tapping a pen against a table until Katya took it off her. Katya had questioned her sanity in agreeing to this over and over, but Trixie got the job done, right, so what was the issue?  
She didn’t like her, was the issue. At all. As a person. In any way shape or form, so why couldn’t she say no to her? As many times as she’d told herself and Violet and even Trixie herself that nothing could happen between them again, as soon as Trixie had placed her lips on hers earlier, she was powerless to do anything but kiss her back.  
She hadn’t ever been confused like this about a woman, had never felt less in control. She liked intellectual women, women like her, who were strong and unfaltering and didn’t get caught up in emotions. All her romantic and sexual encounters since she had been young were quick and efficient. Rushed sex without kissing, or even prostitutes, she went on dates only to placate Pearl and Violets insistent nagging that she found someone. The only time she’d really thought she’d fallen for a kind and gentle woman she had met at the tender age of twenty five, it ended in tears and bullshit, as she knew it would. It was the final nail in her cynical coffin. She was better off alone, she knew, she really truly liked it that way, it wasn’t an excuse. She didn’t like the amount of time Trixie took up in her life. It made her uncomfortable. The realisation that she’d just thought of Trixie as falling into the category of romantic and sexual encounters made her the most uncomfortable of all.  
It was not in Katya’s nature to be caring. Of course she was sometimes, to the people who mattered, to Pearl and Violet and her mother, but even they caught the sharp side of her tongue every now and then, and she’s sure none of them would ever go to her with a problem unless they had to. She was certainly not the type of person to carry someone in because they fell asleep in the car, so what the fuck was that about?  
She felt like she’d taken in a stray cat.  
Katya knocked the vodka back, and poured herself another to take to bed.  
She smoked another cigarette out on her balcony and then brushed her teeth, and just as she was coming back in from her en suite she heard knocking on her bedroom door.  
“Trixie?” She asked, and the door swung open.  
Trixie was still in her shirt from earlier (which was Katya’s shirt, Katya remembered suddenly, because Trixie didn’t own anything black) and her underwear, the way Katya had left her. She’d taken her makeup off, and she stood awkwardly in the doorway, digging her big toe into the carpet.  
“I can’t get back to sleep.” She said softly, and Katya raised an eyebrow at her as she rustled through her drawers.  
“Count sheep or some shit.” Katya answered, stepping back into the en suite to put her pyjamas on. Even if Trixie had seen her basically naked only a few hours earlier, she wanted to keep some kind of a boundary. She left the door open though, so she could still hear her.  
“It’s cold in there.”   
“It can’t be much different than in here, and I’m fine.” Katya called back out to her as she pulled on her favourite Misfits shirt from when she was younger and plaid pyjama bottoms. She padded back out to her bedroom to find Trixie still standing there awkwardly.  
“Can I sleep with you?” Trixie asked her, big brown deer eyes boring into her. Katya was caught off guard. She should probably have seen it coming, but she couldn’t believe she’d actually asked it. Katya couldn’t believe her own next words either.  
“If you hog the covers, wake me getting up to pee, or try to cuddle me, you’re out.”  
Of course, Trixie did all three of those things, and the next night, she slept right next to Katya again.

“Mom, you’ve got to listen to me. No, I don’t want to speak to Stephen.” Katya could hear Trixie’s voice muffled from the hallway. She opened her eyes blearily and looked over at the clock by her bed. It was ten o’clock. She never slept this late, but she supposed it probably had to do with the multiple bottles of wine she had drank while pretending to work late to avoid Trixie. By the time she’d gotten to bed Trixie was already asleep, starfished across her bed, and Katya had grumbled and complained as she pushed her over to make room, but she hadn’t made her leave. Her head was pounding.  
“I’m fine, I swear, I’m with friends in New York. Yeah, Kim’s sister.”   
Katya clambered out of bed as quietly as she could and winced as her head span upon being vertical. She collapsed back down onto the bed again.   
“I’m not coming back when he’s there, mom. This is fucking bullshit. The cunts who kidnapped me were nicer than him.”  
Katya snorted at that, although she knew the joke would be lost on Trixie’s mother. She wondered what she would do if she knew Trixie was in the house of the woman who “kidnapped” her right now.  
“There’s no sorting this out, mom. I’m not standing for this anymore. I’m twenty, I don’t need to be in the house with him, I’m not trapped anymore. I’m not coming home.”  
Katya’s skin prickled at the thought of Trixie not leaving, but decided it’s an argument they could have when she wasn’t so hungover it felt like her fingernails were sweating.   
She heard Trixie let out a sarcastic laugh followed by a tiny sob, and then take a deep breath before the door opened and she came back into the room. She didn’t look at Katya as she shut the door as gently as she could, and she jumped when she turned around to see her looking at her.  
“Oh. Hey. I thought you were asleep still.”  
“You woke me having your domestic.” Katya said, voice cracking on every single word, and she winced at the effort took to reach over and pick up the carton of cigarettes on the nightstand. She lit one, and Trixie wrinkled her nose in distaste as the smell filled the room. Katya never smoked in here without the doors open, but she wasn’t ready for real outside air yet.  
“Are you okay?” She said, careful not to sound too interested. Trixie just shrugged as she climbed back into bed beside her.  
“It’s fine.” She said quietly, and eventually they both drifted off back to sleep. Trixie tried to hold her hand under the covers, and Katya rolled over to avoid her. 

Katya woke up again before Trixie did, and she felt a whole lot better. She had a shower and a coffee and a hastily prepared breakfast of burnt bacon and eggs, and feeling a lot more like a human being, went to her office to make some phone calls. When she entered though, she found Trixie sitting at her desk, still in her shirt and underwear, looking sleepy and languid and ethereal like she did most mornings.   
“Who broke your heart?” Trixie asked, like she was simply asking about the weather. The question was so sudden and strange that Katya felt like she’d been winded. The only thing she could think of was the way Trixie had said ‘But what if I don’t want to go?’ In that carpark in Chicago all those weeks ago, in that exact tone, like she’d been asking nothing at all. Trixie just kept staring at her blankly, awaiting an answer.  
“Excuse me?”  
“You’re scared of me. I don’t get it.”  
“You think I’m scared of you?” Katya scoffed, appropriately riled up by Trixie’s weird accusations. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”  
“Yeah, you’re scared of me. You’ve been scared of me since we met.” Trixie shrugged, unaffected by Katya’s anger.  
“How the fuck was I scared of you? Was it not the other way round, or did I imagine you nearly having a heart attack when I put a gun to your head?”  
Trixie had the audacity to fucking laugh at that.  
“You know what I mean, Katya. You think you’re so cold and unreadable, but I see right through you.”  
Katya went to walk out, but Trixie stood up, and she was frozen by the look in her eyes.  
“I see how you go pink and flustered before you say something mean to me, like it’s a defence mechanism. And even when you do that, it’s not convincing. All I hear is overcompensation.” Katya opened her mouth to retort, but Trixie raised a hand to silence her. “There’s no use in pretending you aren’t into me, Katya. I see how you look at me. I’ve seen it since we met. So why are you so scared?”  
Katya’s head was spinning so fast she was sure she was going to fall unconscious. In about three seconds her brain had sped around her cold, suit wearing mother, how she was so strong and non-shockable even as a Russian immigrant in the seventies and how she was everything Katya wanted to be, everything Katya thought was beautiful, how she had always hated pink, how she had always hated the company of most women until she found Pearl and Violet, how Alaska had worn too much makeup, was too vain, how Alaska looked in pink, how she hated Alaska in pink, too girly, how Alaska was wearing pink the night Katya had walked in on her and a white haired woman called Sharon. Memory after memory sped through her head, dinner parties at Pearl’s where she’d done too much cocaine with rich strangers, frightened people crying as she waved her gun at them, numbers and numbers on inventories and tax returns all bright pink like they’d been ran through a filter. She forced herself to laugh, she hoped she sounded incredulous.  
“If you think I’m into you because I look at you, I gotta tell you about the harsh truth of the world. Sometimes, people just want to fuck you.” She spat, and Trixie flinched a little before regaining composure almost instantly. Katya wondered how long she’d been hyping herself up to have this conversation.  
“Are you trying to tell me that’s why you’ve been letting me stay here? Not to blow up your ego, but I doubt you have any problem finding people to fuck. And yet the big bad wolf has let me stay here and sleep in her bed, and only fucked me twice anyway. Believable story.” Trixie looked too smug, Katya wanted to slap her. She squeezed her hands into fists.   
“Yeah, you’re right, it is fucking stupid that I let you stay here.” She said, nodding and fixing Trixie with a glare. She honestly could not remember what possessed her to let Trixie stay in the first place. “You should leave. I don’t want you here.”  
“Katya-“  
“No no, you’re right. There’s plenty of people who’ll fuck me and not be such a fucking hassle, so you should clear on out.” She walked out to the kitchen, grabbing her cigarettes off the table and lighting one as Trixie followed after her.  
“That’s not what I’m saying, don’t be an asshole. I don’t want to leave and you don’t want me to either, don’t be like this!” Katya whirled round to face Trixie, who was standing in the kitchen doorway looking pissed off with her hands on her hips. She looked like a bratty toddler.  
“You have no idea what I want.” Katya laughed. “You don’t fucking know me, Trixie. You’re just some kid who got mixed up in my life, you’ve got this all twisted.”  
“Have I?” Trixie said fiercely, though her anger was permeated by the tears welling up in her eyes and the shake in her voice. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of defiance.  
Katya shoved past her in the door and stomped out to the hall, head spinning and hangover back in full force. She pulled a drawer in the sideboard open to find her keys and flicked her cigarette away to burn a hole in the floor somewhere. She couldn’t find it in her to care about the ancient hardwood.  
“Katya, where the fuck are you going?” Trixie’s voice was so shaky. Katya refused to look back at her. “Katya, I’m serious.”  
“I don’t fucking know Trixie, what’s it to you?” She barked, pulling the contents of drawers out in frustration, no keys to be seen.  
“Please, just stay here, let’s talk about this!”  
“I’m done talking, Trixie.” Finally, keys. Her hands were sweaty and the cool metal of her few keychains felt so relieving. “I’m going to go see Pearl. You’d better be gone when I get back.”  
“Will I fuck.” Trixie spat, and when Katya spun round to look at her she saw she was full crying now, face blotchy with anger and her jaw set with defiance.  
Katya walked out.  
The whole drive into the city she wasn’t able to calm down, teetering on the brink of delirious anger anytime she dropped her lighter or a car was being too slow, and eventually she let it all out of her in a visceral scream at a red light. When she got to the city, she did not go to see Pearl. She walked around the city until it was dark, walked for long enough to not remember where she’d parked. She went to a gay bar, and she picked out the girl in the bar who looked least like Trixie, about Katya’s age with short dark hair and a Ramones shirt tucked into some sensible jeans. She drank and pretended to laugh and let the woman take her home, and after about half an hour of the woman eating her out earnestly, she faked an orgasm so she would stop. When the woman was asleep, she slipped out the door, and only then did she call Pearl, at 3am, stumbling around a part of New York she was unfamiliar with, drunk and still angry. She was able to explain her surroundings well enough for Pearl to be able to call her a cab, and she passed out on Pearl sofa, who thankfully did not ask her what the fuck she was doing or where Trixie was or why she had been crying. Katya could not remember crying, but when she stumbled into Pearls bathroom to pee before she fell asleep, the eyeliner streaked down her cheeks gave her away. She had at least enough shame left to hope it wasn’t before she’d entered the bar, that she hadn’t looked like this all night.  
She slept restlessly, and when she woke Pearl was perched on the armchair across from her eating a bit of toast and watching the morning news. She was wearing a long silk white robe, her thin exposed legs crossed across the armrest, and her skin was literally glowing. Everything about her was perfect from her silky blonde hair to her shiny pedicured toenails. Katya supposed that if she took a picture of this and showed it to someone who didn’t know Pearl, they’d say it was the morning of her wedding. But Katya knew she existed in this state of opulence and beauty at all times.  
“How’s your head?” Pearl asked without even having to look over at her to see that she was awake.  
“Haven’t had any complaints.” Katya gave the obligatory reply, earning a small snort from Pearl that was equally as obligatory. “But no, I do think I might finally be clinically dead.”  
“You should stop drinking.” Pearl remarked casually, and threw Katya’s dishevelled form a look. “We’re old now, you can’t keep treating yourself like shit.”  
“Can’t I keep treating myself like shit and just fill myself with Botox like you and Violet? It seems so much easier.” Katya winced as she forced herself upright.  
“That’s all fine and good until you die of liver failure. I’m serious man, it’s not cute.” Pearls voice was still casual as she chewed her toast and watched the news, but Katya knew she wouldn’t say anything at all if she wasn’t genuinely concerned. She nodded to herself.  
“Yeah, you’re probably right. For now though, do you have any berocca?”   
Pearl nodded towards the table, and Katya let out a groan of relief as she saw the vitamins and water and painkillers Pearl had set out for her.  
“You’re a fucking starlet.” 

She stayed at Pearls for the rest of the day, even when Pearl left to go meet her art consultant. She had invited her along, but Katya couldn’t think of anything worse, and instead spent the afternoon sleeping off her hangover and avoiding the thoughts of Trixie. When she dug her phone out of the back pocket of her discarded jeans she found several missed calls, so she just turned it off. She slept and ate most of Pearls food and showered and smoked a dozen cigarettes, and then decided she’d have to go home eventually.  
Katya didn’t bother waiting for Pearl to come home. Nearly thirty years of friendship had eradicated the need for such politeness, so she just left her a note and tidied up the mess she’d made (more out of respect for Pearls cleaner than Pearl herself) and began the walk to her car. She cursed herself over and over for not having the forethought to park nearer to Pearls place, but she didn’t want to turn her phone back on to call a cab, so she walked anyway.  
The walk she knew should normally have taken half an hour tops ended up taking her an hour when she had to stop for coffee and her hazy head brought her down the wrong streets over and over.  
When she finally reached the car she nearly kept walking. She didn’t want to drive home. She could tell herself otherwise, but she knew Trixie would still be there. It wasn’t even that she didn’t want to face Trixie. She didn’t want to face the knowledge that she wouldn’t make her leave, or have to fathom why that was.  
She didn’t hate how long the drive was, not that she ever did.  
She stopped at the forest she’d taken Trixie to and smoked a joint a few trees in, watching as it got darker and darker around her. She thought about the last time she’d been here, Trixie in her lap, kissing her earnestly. Katya hated kissing, she could honestly say she’d fucked more women than she’d kissed, but Trixie seemed to love it. She remembered her seeking her lips that first time she’d fingered her in the kitchen, over and over until Katya gave in. Kissing was intimate, far more intimate than fingers shoved up someone or a mouth used to bring someone to orgasm. Sex for Katya was raw and animalistic, a mutual need for release. There was no point in kissing, but she’d sat in her car and let Trixie kiss her over and over like they were teenagers, she hadn’t even fought it. She sat in there for twenty minutes after she’d finished the joint, just staring at the trees. She decided she wasn’t high enough, because she was still thinking of Trixie’s mouth, of her kissing her messily after Katya had brought her to orgasm over the hood of the car, tasting like Katya’s own cunt and desperation, so she rolled another, and half an hour later, she rolled another for the drive home. She felt sedated and stupid, and thanked the lord she didn’t believe in for how there was never any other cars for miles up here at night. Driving under the influence was fine if the only person in danger is you, right?  
Katya hated feeling like a criminal.  
She pulled up into her driveway, and sure enough, there was Trixie’s bright red ridiculous convertible, still where it was when Katya had driven off over twenty four hours ago. It was late now, really late, and she wondered if Trixie was still awake, if they’d fight again. She felt oddly peaceful as she got out of the car and went through the unlocked front door. She was very glad she was high.  
She walked up the stairs at a snails pace, and didn’t bother looking through the open door to the spare bedroom when she walked past it. She knew Trixie wasn’t in there.   
She opened her own bedroom door, and there she was, curled up under the sheets, blonde hair and silk nightie and everything, lit up by the moonlight pouring in the window like some kind of poster. Katya crossed the room as quietly as she could and just about kicked off her shoes before climbing into bed beside Trixie’s sleeping form fully dressed. She lay on her side and stared at the back of her head until she was sure she could draw from memory the way every hair sat. She remembered the way Trixie’s voice had shaken in the kitchen, her rhetorical ‘Have I?’ At Katya’s accusation of her getting everything twisted.  
“You haven’t.” Katya answered anyway, a whisper into the night, voice husky from being nearly asleep. “You haven’t got anything twisted.”


	5. And I’ll Have A Bright Yellow Boat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is kind of late! I’ve been trying to do them every week, but y’all know Christmas is busy!! This chapter gets kind of dark in terms of mental illness and talk of Katya’s old drug problems, so be prepared for that. I hope you guys like it tho!!! -Yolanndi Xo

When they woke up, neither of them spoke about it. Katya slept later than usual and Trixie woke earlier than usual and when they woke up together at ten, neither of them spoke at all, actually. Trixie seemed unsurprised to find Katya beside her when she opened her eyes, and Katya was too busy switching between blind rage at their last conversation and feeling like a pathetic deflated party balloon to be able to say any human words. She muttered to herself in Russian as she stumbled across to the balcony and opened the doors to have a cigarette. Trixie sat beside her and lit one too and Katya didn’t even question it.  
Looking out over the fields this morning Katya had rather changed her mind, as she often did, and she thought they were lovely again. The grass stretched on and on and the morning light made everything look yellow. When she stole a glance at Trixie, she looked golden, hair and skin glowing, and it made her eyes look like like deep dark pools. Katya supposed she would have said she looked beautiful, if someone forced her to. She muttered красивая to herself like a mantra until it lost its meaning. When she looked back across the fields she had the overwhelming urge to run across them, run and run and run to see how far they went, how long it would take until her house and subsequently Trixie were out of sight behind her.  
The morning was filled with the kind of silence that wasn’t even uncomfortable, but just felt pregnant. Katya didn’t trust herself to say anything or speak at all, really. As she sipped coffee in the kitchen while Trixie was in the shower she thought that even if Trixie spoke to her she’d probably still stay silent. But eventually of course, Trixie did, and Katya didn’t.  
“I’m sorry.”  
Katya jumped, she hadn’t even noticed Trixie was in the room. She turned to the doorway and saw her standing there, wrapped in a towel, hair wet and dripping onto the tiles.  
“I was out of line, I shouldn’t have thrown all that on you like that.”  
“It’s fine.” Katya said, against every braincell she had trying to tell Trixie to leave, to never come back, to drive her red convertible away from her house and out of her life. Trixie nodded and went back up the stairs.

Honestly, Katya didn’t know what to do with herself. She tried to work, but she couldn’t focus long enough to even remember what it was she was meant to be doing. She held her phone in her hand to ring Pearl or Violet but couldn’t think of a thing she’d say if she did. She even nearly called her mother, but she knew that her mother would find it ludicrous that she’d rang without purpose. She began painting her toenails but got bored half way through one foot. She tried to do yoga but couldn’t stay in one position for more than a few seconds. Eventually, she rolled a joint and padded out to the living room where Trixie was watching MTV, stuck her head through the door and held up the joint as an offering. Trixie smiled widely at her, a real, happy smile, and Katya’s stomach churned with embarrassment.

They smoked in the back garden and Trixie told Katya a story about her friend Kim entering a fashion competition last year and falling on the runway, and Katya found herself laughing. She told Trixie about how when Violet had started burlesque she had done the same thing, and how her and Pearl had laughed so hard they nearly pissed themselves, and how Violet still flushed red when they brought it up. Katya made spaghetti for lunch and they ate it watching a film, and when the sex scene started Trixie gave her a devilish grin and slipped to the floor, ate her out slowly until Katya was spasming and closing her thighs around Trixie’s head two scenes later. She returned the favour with equal stoned languidness, and even let Trixie curl up next to her after, sighing happily with her arms around Katya’s waist and her head on her chest. Katya’s heart was beating faster in that moment than it had all morning, trying to talk herself down from flights of panic, trying not to shove Trixie’s soft weight from her body. She counted back from ten over and over until the movie ended.  
“Why did you trust me?” Trixie asked as the credits rolled, voice soft and slurred like she was nearly asleep.  
“What?”  
“Outside the bank, when I said I’d drive you. I could have driven you to the police station or anything. You didn’t know me.”  
Katya honestly couldn’t remember her thought process, except that Trixie was the only option they had.  
“Because if you had have done that I would have shot you.” She answered. Trixie hummed for a second before it turned into giggles.  
“No you wouldn’t have.” She replied knowingly. “You’d never shoot anybody. You pretend to be a big bad beast, but I know you’re a good person.” Katya had no answer to that, and Trixie snuggled deeper into her, sighing happily. “You’re so good. Big soft beast.” She whispered, and with that she was asleep, trapping Katya into the sofa with anxious thoughts and itching for her gun.

The next few days passed with minimal contact. Katya avoided Trixie at every possible turn, driving into the city for “work” every day, returning to the house late and sleeping uncomfortably on the chair in her office. She told Trixie that she’d slept downstairs because she had came home late and didn’t want to wake her, and as a result the next night she came home Trixie was still awake, sitting in the living room with a cup of tea and saying she’d waited up for her. Katya had sworn at her, told her the truth, that it was actually because she didn’t want to go to sleep suffocated with stupid cuddles. Trixie had stormed from the room with a face like thunder, yelling at Katya from over her shoulder that she could have told her to sleep in the spare room if it was that big a deal. Even with the knowledge that Trixie wasn’t in the bed they’d shared for the past week, Katya slept in her office again anyway. It was cold and uncomfortable, but she didn’t feel like she deserved the sofa.

Katya woke from the chair at 4am. She was filled with the kind of anxiety she hadn’t felt in a long time, and for the first time in nearly a decade, she felt herself itching for cocaine, for methamphetamine, for the kind of distraction that only comes from a pill or a powder. She made no attempt to go back to sleep, instead paced her office, wringing her hands together and trying not to cry. Her brain ran through every possible source, every dealer in a hundred mile radius she knew before she had time to stop it, and she cursed her damn photographic memory as phone numbers and addresses scrawled on napkins taunted her. She closed her eyes as she walked, trying to repeat to herself everything she’d learned, that the drugs cause many more problems than they solve, that it was never a good solution to her fast heart and the prickling of her skin. She stubbed her bare toe on a pile of books in her blindness, and bit hard on her lip to stop herself yelping in pain, choosing instead to knock them over in frustration. She felt white hot anger surge through her, and grabbed a pile of them from the floor to throw at the wall, where they thudded satisfyingly before crashing to the floor.  
“Бпядь!” She yelled into the room, her voice sounding weird and foreign to her. She kicked over the spare chair and knocked over the real plant pot that hosted a fake Dracaena, and focused her eyes on the shattered ceramic on the floor. She stared and stared and stared until her vision was fuzzy, until she could see nothing but the sharp edges. She knelt down on the floor beside them, reaching a finger out to touch one. She couldn’t feel herself tremble, but she could see it in the shaky hand reaching in front of her, unfamiliar, like it wasn’t her own. There was a tiny voice in the back of her head telling her that she needed to breathe, that she needed to calm down, that she needed to snap herself out of it like she’d taught herself to do when she got like this, and she shut it up by pressing her finger into the shattered edge of ceramic until the blunt pain of it caused her to be sure it was indeed her hand after all.  
“Katya?”  
If she dragged it along the edge she knew it would bleed. She could feel the pain of it digging into that finger she could see, and she needed to prove that she was real, that she was a human person, she needed to feel grounded, so she dragged her finger along the jagged edge until she saw the blood leaving a trail on the ceramic behind her finger. She lifted her finger off, inspected the cut critically.  
“What the fuck are you doing?”  
Hands on her back, then, thumbs digging into her shoulders and it was too much, too much feeling, and Katya whirled round and pushed the legs behind her back away from her until the hands weren’t there. She stared at the small smudge of blood she’d left on the shin. She was real, then, or at least her blood was, and presumably so were the legs.  
“Katya, you’re scaring me.”  
The legs folded to the ground and a face entered her field of vision, some big brown eyes and pale eyebrows knitted into a frown. Plump pink lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear them. Maybe the mouth couldn’t speak, maybe it had no tongue.  
“Katya, can you hear me?”  
Katya was pretty sure she knew the eyes though, recognised them, was pretty sure they were attached to a tongue somehow.  
“Oh my god. Is this a joke? Please tell me that this is a joke, because I’m literally about two seconds away from ringing an ambulance.”  
The eyes were filling up with tears, and Katya frowned. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried. Any time she felt the prickle, she fought it until it faded. She thought it made her strong, but the eyes she saw watering didn’t look weak. She wondered why they were crying.  
The face left, then, the legs unfolded until they were long and straight, and they walked out of her line of vision, exiting stage right. In their absence was the far corner of the office, where the paint was chipping. Katya wondered how that had happened, if she’d laid down there one day and picked it all away with her fingernails and forgotten. She reached a hand in front of her face and inspected her nails for chips of paint.  
“Oh my fucking god, where the fuck do you keep your phone?”  
The legs ran through her sightline, out of the office, and she briefly saw dirt on the soles of the feet. She drew her legs out and twisted them round so she could see her own feet, check they were there, check they hadn’t just ran out of the office without her permission.  
“Violet? Yeah, it’s Trixie. Yeah shit, I know it’s 4am, but listen, Katya’s being really fucking weird, she won’t answer me and she broke a whole bunch of stuff and she’s so zoned out, Violet, I don’t know what to do. Should I call an ambulance?”  
Katya delicately drew a cross on her ankle in her blood, humming to herself as her leg hairs poked through it and ruined the lines. She lay down, feeling bits of ceramic digging lightly into her back, and upon closing her eyes she could make out a voice speaking quickly from a different room, seeping into her brain as she adjusted her body to feel the shards dig into her more.  
“It’s so scary Violet, her eyes look empty.”  
Katya disagreed, the eyes she had seen didn’t look empty at all.

When she woke up, she was on the sofa, wrapped in the duvet from her bed. She felt woozy, and exhausted still, as if she’d just ran a whole marathon and then only slept a few minutes. As the events of the early morning came back to her, she heard voices in the hallway.  
“Look kid, it’s fine, I don’t mind being woken out of my bed for that asshole.”  
“I just didn’t know what to do, Vi. I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s like she looked at me and I was a complete stranger.”  
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I’ve seen her in more states than you could ever imagine, it doesn’t really phase me anymore. Most of the time with Katya you’ve just gotta try and keep her safe and let her ride it out, because there’s nothing else you can do.”  
Katya’s head hurt. The calm clarity of Violets voice made Trixie’s shuddery panic so much harsher. She felt a hot wave of shame ripple through her. She heard Trixie give a tiny sob, and almost smiled at how Violet must be cringing so hard right now. If Katya thought she was bad with emotions, Violet was twenty times worse. Katya looked up at the clock in the corner, saw it ticking just past ten. She wondered how long she’d taken to calm down. She couldn’t remember anything past lying in the wreckage of the plant pot.  
“Look, I’m not gonna sit here and pretend you’re like, my favourite person. But I am glad you were here. I worry about her, out in the country on her own. Mostly when she gets like that there’s no one here to call me, so I’m glad you were.”  
Katya knew Trixie would dine out on that sliver of a compliment from Violet for weeks. She heard some thank you’s and goodbyes, and then the front door opening.  
“Text me and let me know she’s okay. If she goes like that again, or if she’s talking about using, ring me or Pearl right away, okay?”  
Trixie didn’t answer, but Katya could imagine her nodding.  
And then the sound of the front door closing and then feet padding towards the living room, the door swinging open to reveal Trixie. She looked how Katya felt, drained, exhausted, emotional. The hot wave of shame came crashing back over her as she realised she had done that, that was her fault. Trixie sniffed back tears as she noticed Katya was awake, drawing a deep breath that she probably tried to make seem casual and slapping a big fake smile on her face.  
“Oh hey, you’re up! How do you feel?” She said, and Katya could have commended her for how calm she sounded.  
“Like I’m dying.” Katya said honestly. Trixie’s smile turned watery, and Katya could see tears beginning to form again already. “You cry more than anyone else I know.” She observed, which made Trixie smile a little more genuinely.  
“You should meet my cousin Farrah.” She retorted, and Katya was pleased to see the tears retreating from the brink of falling as quickly as they’d arisen.  
“I’m sorry.” Katya said. She was shocked at how small her voice sounded. Of all the things she hated herself for, her mental health was the biggest one. For someone who needs to feel so staunchly in control at all times, who cannot stand feeling vulnerable or reliant on anyone, her behaviour this morning and how she must have made herself look to Trixie made her so angry with herself she could scream for a solid five minutes, if that wouldn’t exacerbate the situation. She was angry with Trixie too, for being there to witness it, for ringing Violet, for being part of the reason Katya felt three inches tall. She knew that wasn’t fair, of all the things she could hate Trixie for, trying to honest to god do the right thing for Katya wasn’t a good one, so she squashed it down along with her scream.  
“Don’t be silly.” Trixie said, still standing in the doorway. Her voice seemed as small as Katya’s. “You couldn’t help it.”  
Katya nodded. She already felt sleep pulling at her again, but her back was stiff from lying on the sofa and sleeping on the chair.  
“I need to go to bed.” Katya said simply, pulling herself up to standing with wobbly legs and wrapping the duvet around her as she did. Trixie nodded, staring at the floor. When she looked up at Katya as she passed her in the doorway, Katya could see the deep bags under her eyes, how bloodshot they were from crying. Her face was still crumpled with worry. Frankly, she looked like shit.  
“Did you sleep at all last night?” Katya asked her, and Trixie shook her head.  
“I was still awake when I heard you, and obviously I couldn’t go to sleep until-“ Trixie cut herself off to look away from Katya, look around the room and scuff her toes against the carpet. “Until I knew you were okay.” She finished quietly. Katya sighed, and against her own judgement, reached out and took Trixie’s hand, walked her to bed. She was doing it for her, Katya told herself, to stop Trixie from worrying about her so she could sleep. It was the least she could do, right? That was why, she told herself as they climbed into bed beside each other. Trixie found her hand again under the sheets before they both drifted off, and Katya let her hold it, and that was why, she swore it.

When she opened her eyes again, she found Trixie’s staring into her. She blinked uncomfortably, and Trixie laughed quietly.  
“Sorry.” Trixie whispered, and Katya shook her head.  
“It’s fine.” She said, giving her a tiny smile. “What time is it?”  
“Four in the afternoon.” Trixie answered, and Katya gave a low whistle.  
“Jeeze. Don’t think I’ve slept this late since I was a kid.”  
“We needed it.” Trixie smiled. “How do you feel now?”  
“Less like I’m dying.” Katya answered honestly. Trixie’s smile grew.  
Katya ran through her monologue of explanation in her head as they padded down the stairs together in silence, feeling her anxiety itching back as she thought about explaining her behaviour to Trixie. It wasn’t a conversation she’s had to have for a while now, the disclaimer of her shitty mental health put off relentlessly anytime she met someone new. She bit her lip as Trixie flicked the coffee machine on and got two cups out as if this was her own home, as if Katya was the guest. Every bone in her body was yelling “run run run.” She stayed put, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen.  
“I suppose I, um...” Katya trailed off as Trixie turned to face her. “I suppose I have some explaining to do.”  
Trixie just shrugged at her, a sad little smile on her face.  
“We all have a little coal in our stockings, Katya. You respected my privacy when you saw my bruises. You don’t have to tell me anything.”  
Katya breathed deeply out her nose, avoiding Trixie’s eye contact as she nodded to herself. She was surprised at the snippet of wisdom from the younger girl. She curled her arms around her upper body, feeling the cold of the tiles seep up through her legs and roll around her chest like a wave.  
“But you did tell me.” She said, her voice small. She hated this. She hated feeling like Trixie had some kind of stake in all of this, the unspoken knowledge between them that although she could value Katya’s privacy all she wanted, she had a right to know what she was up against while she was staying there. Trixie just shrugged again.  
“Yeah, but that was my decision. It doesn’t mean you need to.” They were silent for a moment again then, before Trixie let out a deep breath and said “But I would like to know. If you want to tell me.”  
Katya looked back up at her, saw the genuine concern in her eyes. She wondered when it had switched like this, when they had decided to care about each other.  
They sat down at the table when Trixie had made the coffee, stirred a billion sugars and far too much milk into her own and left Katya’s black like she liked it. The silence was heavy and expectant, and Katya let out a deep breath as she began speaking to the table, as if she could pretend Trixie just wasn’t there.  
“I just have a few problems. I struggled a lot with drugs when I was younger and Pearl Violet and I had just got into the whole robbery thing, because like, what else do twenty somethings do with that kind of money?”  
She cursed herself in her head, realising how stupid an excuse that was when Trixie was a twenty something with all kinds of money and was not, to Katya’s knowledge, a meth head. When she looked up at Trixie though, her face looked nonjudgemental. She still couldn’t hold her gaze.  
“It got like, pretty bad. I’ve struggled with my mental health since I was young and it just sent me down a bigger and bigger spiral until I was literally psychotic. It was really awful and messy and I hurt a lot of people. I did something really stupid, and someone I cared a lot about took out a restraining order on me.”  
Trixie let out a low whistle, and Katya nodded, gave a humourless chuckle that Trixie half heartedly joined in on.  
“Yeah, it was pretty heavy.”  
“What did you do?” Trixie asked. Katya shifted uncomfortably, and Trixie shook her head quickly. “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me.” Katya shook her head back.  
“Nah, it’s okay. It was, um, my ex. She had cheated on me, which I can’t even really blame her for. I was a mess, I had already ruined it. I think she was only with me at the end because she didn’t want me killing myself or something.” Katya chuckled again, but Trixie didn’t make a sound this time. “I didn’t handle it very well. After we broke up I would show up at her apartment when I was fucked up, I went to her work, I went to the other girls house. I wasn’t even trying to get back with her, I think I was just looking for a fight. I was really angry. I wanted to make her angry, I wanted her to really hate me, but all I ever got from her was pity.”  
Katya was focusing so hard on the pattern on her coffee mug that it began to spin and move in front of her eyes. She couldn’t imagine what Trixie’s face must look like, disgust, pity, fear. She imagined this being the final straw, that Trixie would finally up and leave at Katya’s revelations.  
“And then I went to her parents house one Christmas, like, nearly a year after we broke up. I knew Sharon would be there, the girl she cheated on me with, I knew she’d have taken her home for Christmas the way she tried to do with me. We used to fight about it, how I would never meet her parents. So I found out where they lived, and I did meet them, methed out of my skull and screaming at Alaska and Sharon. It was really awful, I was so out of line. And I, um, I hit Sharon. She was trying to drag me out of the house and I punched her. I’ve never been violent like that, it was so out of character. That’s when Alaska took out a restraining order. She hated me a lot in the end after all.”  
“Jesus.” Was all Trixie said.  
“Yeah.” Katya sighed. “Pearl and Violet had me sectioned when they found out. I hated them so much for it at the time, but thank god they did. The hospital placed me in rehab, and I got clean. I turned my life around and began working legitimately in hotel management and got to where I am now.”  
“That’s pretty impressive.”  
Katya finally looked up again to meet Trixie’s eyes, and found that she did not look disgusted, piteous, scared. She looked proud.  
“Well, I’m still not the most well-adjusted person, evidently. I’ll never not consider myself an addict. I just don’t do drugs anymore. I’ve been clean for seventeen years, but I still think about them. It never really leaves you for good.”  
“Don’t take this the wrong way, because it’s a genuine question, I’m not judging- your drinking and smoking weed, that’s all okay for you to be doing?”  
Katya shook her head quickly.  
“Weeds never been an issue for me. It helps my anxiety, actually. Doesn’t send me crazy and I’ve never been reliant on it, so it’s fine. I definitely drink too much sometimes, though. But again, it’s never really posed much of an issue.” Katya remembered Pearls recommendation that she stopped drinking, wondered if that last part was strictly true. Trixie nodded, looking deep in thought.  
“And what happened last night? Is that like, a withdrawal thing?”  
“Not at all, withdrawals are immediate reactions to stepping away from drugs. Last night was just generic mental health stuff. I got too panicked and too overwhelmed and I felt the urge to use again which made it worse, and then I went into a mode of dissociation.”  
“And what is that?”  
Katya was sweating. It felt like a police interrogation. She knew Trixie was only asking the questions out of genuine interest and concern, but that almost did the opposite of helping. She felt the urge to snap at her, to tell her to stop being so nosy, stop being so dumb, but that wasn’t fair. She knew it wasn’t fair. Trixie wasn’t being nosy or dumb. Katya wondered when she’d decided to start fighting the urge to be mean to her.  
“It’s like, I wasn’t in my body. So I could see my body and knew somewhere that it was me controlling and moving it, but it wasn’t mine. Nothing makes a lot of sense, it’s like the ultimate version of being zoned out. Like, I could see you, but I couldn’t really differentiate that your legs weren’t my legs because my legs didn’t even seem like my legs. Does that make any sense?”  
Trixie nodded slowly. “You were looking at me like you had no idea who I was.” She said. She sounded calm about it, but Katya could still remember her crying face as her words had fallen on deaf ears in the office.  
“Yeah, I didn’t. I didn’t even really know what you were. I could recognise somewhere that you were familiar to me, but that’s about it.”  
“And that’s why you cut your finger?”  
Katya’s head was screaming ‘too much too much too much’, was yelling at her to stop answering these questions, to stop revealing so much of herself.  
“Yeah.” She answered anyway. “I was trying to feel the pain.”  
“Oh wow. That’s deep.” Trixie said in a monotone, and Katya looked up at her again. Their eyes met, and Trixie had a slightly uncomfortable tiny little smirk across her face, and all of a sudden they were both bursting into laughter, Trixie’s big scream laugh filling the kitchen as Katya wheezed and shook. All the weirdness that had filled Katya’s body from their conversation dissipated in seconds, replaced instead by big booming laughter at a joke in bad taste that wasn’t even that funny.

Later on, Trixie sat out with her in the back garden as Katya smoked a cigarette. She had rang Violet to let her know she was okay, and Trixie had snatched the phone out of her hand to tell Violet that she was actually telling the truth and that Trixie was keeping an eye on her anyway, and Katya was amused at the ease of the conversation between the two, at wondering how long they’d spent talking to eachother earlier. The sun was setting, but neither of them felt tired anymore. Katya knew she’d take too long to shake this sleeping pattern now, that she’d be out of whack for days and fall asleep in a 9am meeting or something else inconvenient, but she felt too good to care. Talking to Trixie and receiving no judgement back had been so cathartic, and as they watched the sun go down, Katya felt calm and at peace. Of course though, Trixie likes to shatter silence.  
“Did you love Alaska?” She asked into the night, not looking at Katya as she flicked the ash of her cigarette and gave Trixie a slightly annoyed look.  
“Yeah.” She answered anyway, and felt a shock shoot through her as she realised she’d never admitted that to anyone before, not even Alaska herself. Trixie just nodded casually. When she looked back at Katya, she had the same nonjudgemental look she had earlier in the kitchen. No judgement good or bad, just evenness. The setting sun was making her glow again like she had on the balcony the other morning, all orange and pink this time, her hair and skin golden and shining, her eyes so dark and deep Katya couldn’t differentiate her iris from her pupil. This time, Katya said it.  
“You look beautiful.” She breathed. Trixie’s expression didn’t change, she just leant in and kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all have a super lovely holiday season doing whatever you do in wherever you’re from!!!! Or just a lovely end of the year in general!!! The support from you guys has been a really unexpected source of joy and creative satisfaction in my life that I’ve needed a lot right now, and it makes me really happy, thank you guys ♥️ Also, I just got a tumblr!!! Follow me!!! Talk 2 me!!!! My username is Yolanndi-azalien like it is here just with a dash instead of an underscore xo


	6. With Nothing To Row

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I’m sorry this is late, I was drunk for like two weeks, I’m Irish, it’s just christmas tradition. I kinda hate this chapter, but it’s whatever. I hope you guys like this! Thank y’all who’ve given me love, I’d have abandoned this story at chapter one without it xo also follow me on tumblr! I only have like 7 followers pls it’s dire! yolanndi-azalien xoxo

The noise of the cup falling to the ground and smashing did very little to shake the two girls from each other. Katya didn’t even hear Trixie knock it over when she pushed her against the counter, and Trixie didn’t even feel it against her arm as she sent it flying. All either of the two of them could focus on was each other’s mouths, moving quickly, searching for something from eachother, hungry beyond belief for answers, for clarity. Katya groaned as she felt the childish glee of just making out, of kissing strongly and fiercely like she’d only ever do with Trixie. Their kiss in the garden had escalated quickly, Katya throwing her cigarette away and grumbling “inside” into Trixie’s mouth as her hands had wandered down Katya’s chest and began playing with the buttons of her shirt in seconds. So here they were, Trixie trapped against the kitchen counter as she had been the first day she’d stayed there. Katya’s hand was wrapped round the back of her neck, fingers scratching into her scalp and holding her tightly, her other hand gripping her arm tight enough to bruise. Trixie’s hands gripped the counter where Katya had put them, a silent warning not to touch her. Katya knew Trixie was aching to do just that, could feel it in the tension of her arm and how she kept shifting her weight from foot to foot, but she was being good. She was listening. Katya felt elated at the control. The heat of her arousal was twisting itself round her gut, and as she focused on the feeling, she felt her stomach rumble. She hadn’t eaten since last night, she remembered suddenly. She nearly laughed against Trixie’s mouth as a metaphorical lightbulb dinged above her head. She pulled away from Trixie entirely, leaving her leant against the counter to walk to the fridge.  
“Um, excuse me?” Trixie scoffed brattily. Katya smiled wickedly into the light of the fridge before forcing her face into a look of boredom to turn back to Trixie.  
“I’m hungry. You wanna eat?”  
“Katya. What the fuck.” Trixie looked so angry, frustration clouding her flushed features.  
“I haven’t eaten since yesterday, I’m starving.” Katya said casually, turning back to the fridge. She felt Trixie walk over and place her hands on her hips, gripping them tightly until Katya batted her away, ignoring the heat between her own thighs at Trixie’s needy whine.  
“We can eat after, Katya, I need you.” Trixie’s hands returned to her hips, trying to pull her back against her. Katya whirled round, glaring at Trixie with all the harshness she could conjure up.  
“Go and sit down, Trixie.” She said assertively. “I’m busy.”  
Trixie’s face was a mixture of shock, offence, and confused arousal. Katya fought back laughter as she watched her walk to the table, pushing herself up to sit on it and glaring at Katya with a bright red face. Katya turned back to the fridge.  
“And no touching yourself, either.” She said after a minute, heard a huffing behind her, didn’t have to look to know Trixie was reluctantly closing her legs.  
Katya made a full dinner. She boiled potatoes and some broccoli and green beans, placed a chicken fillet and some of the gross vegetarian sausages Trixie eats on a tray and put it in the oven. With nothing to do until it was all ready, she busied herself making gravy and then a nice cup of tea. She forced herself to not look at Trixie the whole time, but she could hear her huffing incredulously every now and then. She took a long drink of her tea, which was mediocre at best, but she moaned a “So good.” performatively anyway, causing Trixie to whine and shift uncomfortably at the table. She bent at the waist to check the food in the oven, sticking her tiny ass out, and could feel Trixie’s eyes burning into it. Just as she could feel herself almost reaching Trixie’s level of frustration, about to stop the game and fuck her senseless, the food was done.  
She plated it slowly, Trixie watching every little move she made.  
“Katyaaaa,” Trixie whined, and Katya smiled to herself. “I’m literally going to die, can we not?”  
Katya turned round to look at Trixie in mock offence, carrying the two plates to the table and going back to grab knives and forks.  
“But I’ve just made you dinner. You’re not really going to just not eat it, are you?”  
Trixie’s face was hilarious, and it took all Katya had to keep it going, remain pokerfaced in retaliation.  
They ate in silence, Katya taking her sweet time, Trixie scarfing down her potatoes and vegan sausages and being left twiddling her vegetables around her plate with her fork. Katya eyed her carefully, watching her face squish up in disgust as she stabbed into a green bean and watched a little juice spill out of the holes her fork made.  
“Eat your vegetables, Trixie.” She said, and Trixie looked at her with legitimate hate in her eyes.  
“I don’t like them.” She defied, narrowing her eyes at Katya.  
“I don’t care.” Katya responded, turning her attention back to her own dinner, not really tasting it as she fought against the urge to abandon this dumb game. But she couldn’t, when Trixie was making it this fun. They were both still in their pyjamas, and Katya wondered if Trixie was getting the seat wet, if her arousal had seeped through the panties she was wearing under her big Barbie shirt. “I went to all the trouble of making you dinner, I want you to eat it.” Trixie was still looking at her like she’d just kicked her puppy off a bridge. “You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you sweetheart?”  
Trixie shifted a little then, her face flushing at the pet name like Katya knew it would. Her face crinkled in disgust as she brought a sprig of broccoli up to her face, considering it carefully before shoving it in her mouth and chewing and swallowing so quickly Katya was surprised she didn’t choke. Her face was still scrunched up, and she shook her head at Katya.  
“Nope. I’m not eating those. They’re so gross.”  
Katya laughed a little, although she tried her best to hold it in. She shook her own head back at Trixie, and put her knife and fork down.  
“Go and wait for me on the sofa, Trixie.” She said, and Trixie sparked with excitement, ran from the room with the speed of a child at Christmas. Katya hummed to herself as she scraped their plates and piled them into the dishwasher, delaying things as much as she possibly could. It was driving her mad, but she knew it would be driving Trixie madder. She went over to inspect the chair she’d been sitting on, and sure enough, there was a slick patch on the vinyl. Katya let out a small sigh of satisfaction, and finally walked through to the living room.  
Trixie was sat on the very edge of the sofa, playing with the hem of her long shirt where it rested against her thighs, looking alert and excited and nervous. Katya smiled sweetly at her as she approached her, leaned over to kiss her open mouthed. Trixie sighed into her, reaching up to touch her, but Katya slapped her hands away and laughed.   
“Oh no, Trixie. Not just yet.” She whispered into her ear before sitting down beside her. Trixie looked like she was going to cry. “Get over my knee.” Katya ordered, and Trixie flushed, bit her lip.  
“Get- what?”   
Katya sighed in exasperation, pulling her by the hands harshly so she collapsed over Katya’s lap, and Trixie whined against the sofa as she understood. Katya yanked her shirt up her back to expose her ass, and rubbed circles into it as she leant down to speak into Trixie’s hair.  
“If this is too much, you tell me. If you ever actually tell me to stop I promise I will.”   
Trixie nodded, pressing her ass up into Katya’s hand eagerly. “Don’t ruin the mood, Katya, I already know that.” She giggled, and Katya smiled to herself at Trixie’s trust. She kept rubbing her ass for a minute, hearing her little sighs before she smacked down on her soft cheek. Trixie yelped immediately, whole body flinching and cringing away from Katya’s hand.  
“Why couldn’t you just be a good girl?” Katya cooed condescendingly, bringing her hand down on Trixie’s other cheek and making her yelp again. “All I wanted was for you to eat your vegetables. And you couldn’t do that, could you Trixie?”  
She smacked her twice on the same cheek, harder each time, and Trixie continued to shift and wiggle and whine. She shook her head against the sofa, and Katya used her free hand to drag through Trixie’s hair, tugging her head up and away from the fabric.  
“Why were you being such a brat, Trixie?” Katya asked, and Trixie whined in humiliation as Katya smacked her again before rubbing her hand over the hot skin. Her ass cheeks were painted a pretty pink now.   
“Wanted- wanted you to fuck me.” Trixie breathed, and Katya wondered if she was crying yet. She dropped her hair, let her head fall back to the sofa, relished in the guttural groan Trixie let out as she slapped her ass again. She slapped her again, and again, harder each time, until she heard Trixie let out a sob like she’d been waiting for. She shushed her then, returning her hand to its rubbing motions, watching Trixie still flinching at her ministrations on the sensitive skin. She snapped the waistband of her little pink thong before finally slipping her hand between Trixie’s legs.  
If she thought Trixie was whiny before, it was nothing compared to the reaction she got from grazing her fingers over the wet spot of her panties. Her hips bucked up into Katya’s hand instantly, and she opened her thighs as far as she could from her awkward position.  
“Good girl.” Katya cooed, rubbing just hard enough over her panties for it to give Trixie friction. “Spread your legs for me, just like that.”  
Trixie shifted so she was up on her knees and could spread herself properly, and Katya let her get comfortable before returning her hand to where Trixie wanted it. Trixie tried to pull herself up by her arms, but Katya shoved her back into the sofa by her shoulders.  
“No, baby, I want you to stay like this.” She whispered just loud enough for Trixie to hear her. “Face down, ass up, like the little slut you are.”   
Trixie hummed in agreement, sounding exhausted and fucked out already. She trembled slightly, completely pliant under Katya’s touch. Katya pressed a finger against Trixie’s entrance with as much force as she could with her underwear still in the way, and Trixie tried to push her hips down onto it. Katya pulled her hand away and smacked her ass again and Trixie let out another sob that sent a sick thrill through Katya.  
“Stay still, you silly bitch.” Katya hissed. Trixie nodded quickly.  
“Y-yes, sorry Katya.” She managed, and Katya hummed in encouragement, slipping her hand back between her legs and pushing under the fabric of her thong this time. She was so wet that Katya could barely find friction on her clit as she rubbed her, but it must have been doing something by the noises Trixie was making. Katya readjusted herself so she could use her other hand to press the side of Trixie’s face further into the sofa, sticking a few fingers into her mouth for good measure. It wedged Trixie’s mouth open at a weird angle that must have been uncomfortable, but Trixie ran her tongue eagerly over the digits anyway, biting down ever so slightly. Katya finally conceded then, done with teasing. The quicker she got Trixie off, the quicker Trixie would get her off. She slipped the fingers of her left hand from Trixie’s clit to her entrance so quickly Trixie didn’t have time to notice until Katya was two fingers knuckle deep, at which she made a strangled kind of noise and lost rhythm in her tongue. Katya fingered her roughly, the way had been her undoing in the kitchen a few weeks ago. She leant down to where she was pressing Trixie’s face into the sofa, was just about able to make out her distorted expression through the mess of her sweaty hair and Katya’s own hand.  
“Does that feel good, Trixie? Is that what you wanted?” She asked, and Trixie made an unintelligible noise that might have been words, nodding her head as she squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to speak again, and Katya pulled her fingers out of her mouth, removed her hand from her face so Trixie could twist herself round a little. Her eyes were so heavily lidded and tearfilled Katya would have been worried if it wasn’t for her twisted little smile.  
“Don’t fucking stop.” Trixie whimpered, bringing a hand back to grab at her own pink asscheek, pulling it back so Katya could get deeper into her. “I was so bad Katya, fuck me so hard I remember to be good.”  
Katya groaned at her words, slipping another finger into Trixie with little resistance at all and continuing to fuck into her despite the pain in her wrist. Katya could never come from penetration alone, but she knew Trixie could, and she found it so hot that she could just fuck Trixie into complete undoing. She’d have to use her strap on on her soon, she thought in the back of her mind. But for now, she focused on being able to feel how wet Trixie’s pussy was around her fingers, how she could feel her walls tightening when she slipped her pinky finger in. Trixie let out a little scream and then she began to shake, knees nearly going out from under her as she gave in to her orgasm. The delighted little smile never left her face and the pattern of the fabric sofa had left little indentations up her cheek. Katya was sure this girl was going to actually be the death of her someday.  
She let Trixie catch her breath, stroked her hair and waited for her to push herself up from her position over Katya’s lap before she began to undress, and Trixie wiggled her way to the ground before she’d even untied the ribbon of her pyjama bottoms. She always looked so good on her knees for Katya, and Katya couldn’t resist the lure of her deep dark eyes, the eye contact pinning her against the sofa the way Katya had to use her hands to do to Trixie. Even when she pulled her hair and set the pace with her hips and even when she pushed her to the floor with her feet on her shoulders just so she could sit on her face, Katya was sure she was the submissive one in those moments, completely at the mercy of Trixie and her god damn tongue. Katya came holding Trixie’s hands against the carpet, pinning her down as she rocked her hips into her face, and when she climbed off Trixie was laughing, delighted and flushed and saying “Can’t believe you wanted to hold hands during sex, you fucking dyke.” And Katya was as red as Trixie’s ass then, huffing her way out to the kitchen with a shouted assertion that that wasn’t what she was doing, and Trixie’s laughter followed her the whole way out to the back porch for a cigarette.  
She lit it, staring out at the now completely dark sky, and allowed herself to smile.

When they went to bed that night, Katya didn’t bother complaining about Trixie curling up in her arms. She let herself listen to Trixie’s breathing even and deepen, felt her become a heavy immovable weight on her chest as sleep took her over. She swore she could feel her heart exploding in her chest, her panic stuffed deep down deep inside her but still attempting to overflow. She allowed the presence of Trixie to soothe her, remembering how she had stayed by her side as Katya had been out of her mind, how she’d looked after her. She finally let it sink in that she’d told Trixie about Alaska, that she’d told her about the drugs, about the fucked up things she’d done, and that Trixie was still there. She hadn’t ran away, she hadn’t judged her. She wasn’t as shallow as Katya had ever thought- quite the opposite, actually. Most people would have left after that. But she’d stayed valiantly right beside her, even though she didn’t have to.  
“Trixie.” Katya whispered into her hair experimentally, to no response. She let out a deep breath. “Я люблю тебя, I think. I think, Trixie. мое старое сердце, ты красавица. Блядь.”

The next day, Katya was driving into the city to meet Pearl and Violet, and Trixie rode with her because she had a few job interviews. Katya had been pretty shocked when she told her- she hadn’t even realised Trixie had been looking for a job. Trixie had smiled thinly at her, said she had to get some form of income now her parents had cut her off. Katya grappled with the realisation that that meant she was intending to remain in New York indefinitely the whole way through breakfast.  
In the car, Trixie was a ball of nervous energy. The first interview was with MAC, and then at Sephora, and then at some cool new hip place Katya couldn’t remember the name of, makeup counter jobs where she’d be painting faces, and Trixie had taken an extra two hours getting ready as a result. She had panicked and rushed down the stairs to where Katya was drinking coffee halfway through one eye of massive eyeliner, blabbering about whether her regular style would be too much and they’d be spooked off, but Katya had shrugged at her and said they’d probably like it, and Trixie had got even more flustered, blushing pink before running back upstairs.   
She was wringing her hands and bouncing her leg against the floor of the car now as Katya drove, and Katya shot her a look of annoyance.  
“Can you not?” She snapped, and Trixie glared at her.  
“Fuck off, I’ve never done one of these before. I’m crazy nervous.”  
Katya sighed, applying her bright red lipstick with one hand without looking away from the road.  
“Let’s rehearse then, I’ll pretend to interview you.”  
Trixie snorted loudly. “Yeah, because you know a lot about makeup.”  
“I know a lot about hiring people. And you can judge all I want, but is my lipstick not perfect?”  
She turned to Trixie and gave her her cheesy billion kilowatt smile, causing Trixie to laugh out loud.  
“Okay, fair enough.”  
“Alright. So hey, I’m Vanessa, I’m the manager of this store. I’m probably bitchy and overdressed and think I’m too good to be here. What’s your name?”  
Trixie hadn’t managed to stop laughing yet.  
“Bitch, get it together!” Katya said, but she was laughing too. Trixie shook her head, and eventually composed herself and cleared her throat, turning to the drivers seat with a sweet little smile on her face.  
“Hi, I’m Toby Maguire.”  
They were both off again then, and they didn’t get a lot else done until Katya was dropping off a far calmer Trixie.  
“Just be yourself, but like, a job-appropriate version of you. You’ll do great.” Katya told her, feeling legitimately awful for Trixie as her face paled dramatically at the realisation she actually had to get out of the car now. Katya remembered her first job interview, could legitimately remember sweating through a shirt and a thick woollen blazer she’d borrowed from her mother. Trixie sighed.  
“Thank you, Katya. I feel a lot less freaked out thanks to your super helpful interview simulation.” She said sarcastically, and Katya was laughing again. Trixie fixed her with a cute little smile. “But thank you. I’ll ring you when I’m done?”  
“Yeah, gimme a call, I should be done by then so I’ll pick you back up. Or like, if you get lost or anything trying to find those places.”  
Trixie nodded, a little real blush poking through her fake one, and then she was leaning over the centre console and trying to kiss Katya. And it shouldn’t have been so weird for her, because they’d kissed so many times already. But this was different- this wasn’t a kiss that was going to lead into sex, this was a kiss goodbye, an act of domesticity, and Katya was suddenly struck with the urge to violently vomit. It must have showed on her face, or maybe she took a few seconds too long to lean in, because Trixie’s face fell.  
“Oh. Um, I didn’t mean-“  
“No, it’s okay.” Katya cut her off, leaning in and kissing Trixie’s quickly and chastely, forcing a smile onto her face. “Sorry, I just didn’t wanna get lipstick on you.”  
Trixie nodded, but she didn’t look like she believed her. “You’re wearing that Stila one, right? It’s transfer proof.”  
Katya knew that.  
“Oh, I didn’t know that. See, you’re perfect for this job!”  
Trixie gave her a tight lipped smile.   
“Thank you.” She said quietly before stepping out of the car.  
“What the fuck.” Katya muttered to herself as she watched Trixie walk away, get lost in the crowds on her way to the MAC store. “What the fuck, Katya.”  
She didn’t even know why she was angry with herself at that point, if she was angry because she couldn’t do a basic thing like kiss Trixie before her job interview or if it was because she’d put herself in a place where she was expected to. She always felt completely disarmed in a way she never had when it came to Trixie, exposed and weak and disgusted with herself for being so inadequate. This was exactly the shit, this is what would leave Trixie unsatisfied and annoyed and too young and beautiful to put up with it. But Trixie had no right really, Katya supposed, to make her feel like she owed her any kind of intimacy. Or did she? She drove to Pearls on autopilot, craving a joint and bouncing between hating herself and hating Trixie at equally timed intervals.  
She parked a few streets away, not wanting to navigate the indoor parking across from Pearls building. She walked slowly, smoked a cigarette down to the butt before she hit Pearls apartment building, waving half heartedly at the doorman who knew her by now and didn’t bother questioning her. Katya didn’t understand how Pearl and Violet still lived in apartments at their age, she couldn’t think of anything worse, even when they were in a place as plush as this. Although, she supposed they still liked the city life. She stared at the delicately carved frame of the giant mirror covering the wall of the elevator she was in as it went up and up and up, tried to remember the address of every apartment she’d ever lived in to get her brain to stop before it stopped on Pearls floor.  
Neither girl really questioned Katya’s weird mood, because they were used to her by now. Pearl was smoking a joint when she opened the door and Katya took it right out of her hand before it was even offered to her. They sat round Pearls kitchen table with laptops and CCTV footage they’d garnered from a dodgy security guy in Indiana. They were just using it to plot out blind spots, and it was easy and methodical, and Katya got lost in it easily.  
“Where’s your little puppy?” Violet piped up suddenly, and Pearl raised her eyebrows, looking between the two girls in interest.  
“Oh. She’s got like, job interviews in the city. Makeup stuff.” Katya said casually, hoping the conversation was over.  
“Wait, Barbie is still living with you?” Pearl laughed, and Violet shot her a look. “What? The girls a mentalist. And isn’t she like, twelve?”  
“Twenty.” Katya said through gritted teeth.  
“Well, that’s not really much better. I thought you were gonna kick her out man, how come you haven’t?”  
“Because I couldn’t ever do that. Because yeah, she’s twenty and she makes me feel the darker side of fifty sometimes, but she makes me feel five sometimes too. Because for once in my life I don’t want to be fucked up. For once in my life I’m fighting the urge to be a complete and utter scumbag, and I don’t know why, but I am, so that’s why I’m not kicking her out. Because I still run away, like with everyone else, but I come back for her. Because I thought she needed me but it turns out I need her a fuckload more, and for some reason, she’s okay with that. Because I see her sometimes in all her stupid pink and her stupid big blonde hair and her stupid painted toenails and I realise I’m falling so hard I don’t even know what to do. She’s a witch, I’m telling you. A real one.”  
But Katya didn’t really say that. What Katya said, with a wink of an eye and a sick little grin, was-  
“Because her tongue is magic and her fingers are just the right length.”  
Pearl and Violet both laughed and made vomit noises, and they all went back to picking apart CCTV footage, with Katya acting as if she hadn’t just nearly spilt her heart across Pearls kitchen table.


	7. So Make Mine An Oar Out Of Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Okay so as always, I’m not American and I’ve never been to New York, so apologies if there is inaccuracies! Thank you guys so much for all your support you’re great xo

Trixie didn’t ever call Katya to say she was done with her interviews. Katya had been finished with Pearl and Violet for a while, and she hung out there waiting for her call until she got kind of concerned. She said goodbye to the girls and made her way out of the building, hitting call on Trixie’s contact from the lift. She answered after one ring.  
“Hey, you okay? Are you still in interviews?” She asked, fiddling with the frame absentmindedly. Trixie was silent for a minute before answering.  
“Um. Yeah, I’m done, I’m just in a cafe. Are we going back?”  
Trixie sounded pissed off. Katya prickled uncomfortably, wondering if Trixie was really this annoyed about earlier. She had kind of been hoping she hadn’t even noticed.  
“Yeah, I’m just leaving Pearls. Meet where I left you off?”  
“Sure.” Trixie said shortly, and then just hung up. Katya stared at her phone for a minute before realising the lift had stopped.  
She was practically overflowing with nerves by the time she saw Trixie waiting for her. She pulled up beside where she was standing, and Trixie barely looked up from her phone to get into the car. Katya swallowed. She could feel Trixie’s angry energy before she had even got in, and now it was suffocating, punctuated by how hard Trixie slammed the car door.  
“How did your interviews go?” She asked light heartedly as she pulled back onto the road, and Trixie let out a cruel little laugh.  
“As if you care, Katya.” She answered, still not looking up from her phone. Katya was pissed off now.  
“Yeah, I do.” She said through gritted teeth. Trixie had no right to act like this over some stupid hesitation Katya had taken to kissing her. “Someone piss in your cornflakes this morning? What’s the mood about?”  
“None of your business.” Trixie snapped. Katya had half a mind to put her out of the car. They drove the rest of the way in silence.

Trixie practically got out of the car before it stopped moving, storming into the house with a face like thunder. Katya let out a deep breath before getting out and locking the car, ready for the bullshit storm to come.  
She found Trixie in the kitchen, pacing back and forth and wringing her hands together. She didn’t look so much angry now as upset, and Katya’s own anger took a step back for a second. Trixie stopped pacing when Katya came in, and just kind of looked at her, as if Katya was meant to read her mind and say the right thing. Katya was drawing a definite blank.  
“Look.” She started, deciding the most obvious answer was probably the right one. “I’m sorry about earlier. I think you read too much into it-“  
“I didn’t read too much into it, don’t bullshit me like that.” Trixie spat, face morphing in a second and the rage returning. “You didn’t wanna kiss me. That’s all there is to it.”  
Katya was silent.  
“I’m gonna leave, I think.” Trixie sighed. “My friend Kim’s sister lives in the city and is looking for a roommate, pretty close to the MAC store. I think- I think it would be better.”  
Katya could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Trixie was saying the words she’d wanted her to say since she arrived here- that she was leaving- but all of a sudden they were the words she wanted to hear least in the world.  
“Really? You wanna leave because I took a few seconds to kiss you earlier?” She said, quirking an eyebrow and trying to remain as calm as possible. For a second, her brain slid into robbery mindset. Time to be quick and logical, get out with as little injury as possible. But all of a sudden Trixie’s eyes were filling with tears, and that was impossible.  
“That’s not what this is about, you stupid bitch.” Trixie hissed, literally stomping her foot on the floor. Her tears were spilling out now, and Katya imagined them filling the kitchen, drowning them both. “I called you earlier. I got the job at MAC, I didn’t go to the other two interviews. I was so fucking excited, and I couldn’t wait to tell you because fuck, I dunno, I guess you’re the only person I have to tell.”  
Katya’s brow furrowed, completely lost now.  
“You didn’t call me earlier.” Katya thought aloud, and Trixie laughed brokenly, face still scrumpled up from crying. Katya’s heart hurt.  
“Yeah, I did. You answered me in your pocket, Katya, I heard what you said to Pearl. That’s why you keep me around, huh? My long fingers and magic tongue?”  
Boom.  
That was it.  
If this was a robbery, this would be the moment she knew it was over. The moment a police car pulled up outside, the moment a bullet was fired. If she was able to rationalise this like she could those situations, she’d probably try and find a way out of it. A backdoor, a loophole, a distraction, a miracle, a blonde girl with a bright pink getaway car. But all Katya could do was stand there and try not to vomit. Trixie observed her, letting her face fall into something that more resembled derision than her crippling emotion from a minute ago.  
“Look, I knew what this was to you. I shouldn’t have been so stupid. But, y'know, I guess I thought...”  
Trixie trailed off, laughing humourlessly again and shaking her head. Katya hated her penchant for eye contact the most right now, but she couldn’t find it within herself to break it either.  
“I guess I thought I was wrong about you. I guess I thought YOU were wrong about you. But you really are just a cruel selfish bitch who doesn’t think about anything but who’ll get her off next.”  
Katya kept standing there when Trixie walked out past her, kept standing there while she listened to her stomp around upstairs, gathering her things up. She kept standing there, screaming at herself to say something, to tell her it was wrong, that she hadn’t meant it, that she was sorry, that she was scared- but she just stood there. She didn’t even move when she heard her walk up to the kitchen door behind her. She couldn’t even turn round to face her. Trixie didn’t speak for a minute, and Katya was petrified.  
Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go.  
She didn’t move.  
“You can’t even fight for me, can you?”  
Trixie’s voice was quiet. Katya squeezed her eyes shut, tried to block it out.  
“I know you want to, Katya. Look at me.”  
“No.” Katya whispered.  
Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go.  
Trixie sighed.  
“If you tell me to come back- I will. But you have to ask me. You can’t keep doing this to me, Katya. Prove me wrong, show me you want me!”  
She was shouting now, and Katya could hear the tears in her voice, could hear them in how it trembled with desperation.  
“Please, just prove me wrong, Katya, look at me!”  
It was breaking her.  
Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go.  
“You can’t do this to people. You can’t just turn their whole world upside down and act like nothing happened. You can’t just say you love me when you think I’m asleep.”  
Katya didn’t open her eyes until she heard Trixie’s car leave, didn’t say “don’t go” out loud until she heard Trixie’s car leave, didn’t let tears fall until she heard Trixie’s car leave.

Katya spent much of the next four days completely out of her brain. She drank herself into a stupor the night of the fight, and woke up with a hangover from hell that she drank away, lounging around and feeling sorry for herself with greasy hair. The next day she decided she might be relying on alcohol, and in the efforts to step away from a bad path to go down, she just got stoned instead, and spent her day much in the same way, lounging around and feeling sorry for herself with greasy hair. It was nice, because the weed made her want to eat, which she had neglected to do since Trixie left.  
Honestly, she didn’t feel like she really cared, really, she barely thought about her. She felt her like a vacant spot in her life, but that just made her disgusted by how quickly she’d grown accustomed to Trixie being in her bed, to being beside her at the kitchen table. That had never been her style.  
She especially didn’t think about what Trixie had said before she left, oh no, she made a conscious effort to NOT think about that. It did try to permeate her thoughts every ten minutes, but she was able to squash it, so she couldn’t have really cared, right?  
Day five, Pearl called her a few times, and Katya didn’t answer her. Day six, Violet called her, and with the realisation that Violet might call Trixie if she didn’t answer, she begrudgingly accepted the call.  
“Hello?” She croaked out, and she coughed harshly as her throat contracted from her voices first use in a week.  
“Shit, Zamo. You all good? You sound like a dying person.”  
“I thought I’d die. But I didn’t! And when I didn’t, I thought to myself- is that all there is?” Katya said in a perfect impression of Bette Middler, an effect that was probably lost on Violet, who just was silent for a minute before saying, “Okay. I’m coming over.” And hanging up before Katya could say no.  
When Violet arrived two hours later, Katya hadn’t moved from her spot on the living room floor where she’d answered the call. She shot up at the noise of the door, before remembering it wasn’t Trixie and lying down again. Violet’s steps into the living room were so noisy, the clicking of her very high heels against the hardwood floor seemed so- unnecessary.  
“Okay, you crazy bitch.” Violet sighed, staring down at her with annoyance. “You’re coming back with me.”  
She stayed with Violet for a few days, mostly just being grumpy and snapping at her and asking her for weed. Violet glowered at her, told her she was becoming dependent. Katya argued, and Violet pointed out that if she wasn’t dependent she could do without for now. Katya supposed she was right, and although the physical withdrawals of marijuana are non-existent, she was certainly pissed off about it.  
Pearl came round a few times, and her and Violet whispered about Trixie as if Katya couldn’t hear them from the spare room. She stormed out past them to go for a cigarette to prove a point, and then felt stupid and avoided coming back in for a full hour and half a pack of cigarettes.  
She tried to get the ball rolling while Pearl was there, pulled out blueprints from her emails that they’d put together of the bank in Indiana they were targeting next. Violet and Pearl exchanged looks and wouldn’t take her seriously, and she ended up storming off again into Violets spare room, sheepishly emerging several hours later to eat. Neither of the other girls mentioned it.  
After three days, she told Violet she was going to go back home. Violet was hesitant.  
“Look, I get what you did, okay? It’s all great and you pulled me out of a spiral yada yada yada. But I want to go home now. I’ve got work to do, I’ve been away from my office too long.”  
“Katya, you never have work to do.” Violet said, raising an eyebrow at her like she does when she’s right and knows it. “I don’t want you to go back home and just revert to being a miserable shut-in. It’s not good for you.”  
“Oh, it isn’t? I had no idea.” Katya snapped sarcastically, and then instantly felt awful. Violet didn’t react. “Shit, I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I really am thankful for you helping me out. I just feel okay now, I don’t want to stay here and feel like I’m some big mentalist you have to look after.”  
“I don’t think you’re a mentalist.” Violet said without hesitation. “I just think you go back to unhealthy coping mechanisms when you feel shitty, and right now you feel shitty because you’re lonely.”  
The two never spoke about things like this, and even in her monotone the sincere words from Violet made Katya nearly burst out crying. She held it in for Violets sake.  
“Well, true as that may be, I really do feel much better.” Katya said, kneeling down to busy herself with the strap of her heel.  
She did feel better, really. Well, maybe not better, just not like she was about to go off the deep end. The panic had left, and that was okay, even if she was still sad. Katya had learnt long ago she could deal with sad, but she could not deal with panic.  
“Look, obviously you can leave if you want. I don’t feel the need to lock you up.” Violets tone was jovial, but only just enough for Katya to still know that Violet would lock her up if necessary. It was comforting to have friends willing to do the extreme things it sometimes took for Katya to remain sane. She pulled back up from her shoe, looking over at Violet again where she was leant against the door of her immaculate kitchen that had literally never been cooked in.  
“I want you to come into the city with me, though? I want to take you to that new vegan place Pearl and I had lunch in last week.”  
Katya nodded absentmindedly. She was itching to go home, but she did feel bad that she was never in the city anymore and didn’t see Pearl and Violet enough to do regular friend things that weren’t robberies or mental breakdowns.  
Going for lunch with Violet was really fun, actually, even if the food was kind of awful. Katya had genuinely forgotten how much fun they had together, making each other laugh so hard people across the tables gave them dirty looks. Violet ranted about her new burlesque act with such passion across her pretty face that Katya would nearly have forgotten her age, though she bit her tongue in telling her that because she knew it would have resulted in getting chickpeas flicked at her. They reminisced about the old days when they were just watching those women in awe, how Violet had turned to her and Pearl once and said she was going to be up there one day, and didn’t lose her determination even when they laughed at her. The pride she felt for her friend filled her more than the food did, and more than she would ever admit.  
However, it was after, when they were walking past Macy’s and Violet grabbed her arm and pulled her in and started ranting about how she had to grab a lipstick that Katya realised she would have to cherish that moment dearly as the last time she’d seen Violet, because she was definitely going to have to kill her.  
There was Trixie, standing at the other side of the store, lit up by the MAC sign and dutifully putting eyeshadow on an old lady. Katya stopped dead in her tracks, and Violet tugged her arm.  
“Look, Katya, you know I had to do this or you’d never do it-“  
“I don’t need to do it at all, actually.” Katya said, unable to take her eyes off Trixie. She looked great, in her element, dolled up to the nines. She looked happy, well-rested. Katya felt shame ripple through her as she realised they hadn’t even had a chance to talk about her new job because they were too busy fighting, and then she felt stupid for how tiny that seemed in the large scale of things. Trixie laughed at something the old lady had said, but Katya could tell she was faking it because if it was real Katya would be able to hear it from where she was and not just see her face move.  
“You know you want to speak to her. Please just-“  
Violet didn’t need to convince her any more, she was already walking across the shop floor.  
She barely paid attention to where she was walking, was pretty sure in the back of her mind she’d just knocked over a stand of lipsticks on a counter and stood on someone’s foot, but she did do a quick mental run over her general appearance, eyes never leaving Trixie. She had showered yesterday, she was in nice heels and a dress because she’d intended to stop by the NYC branch on her way home. She wasn’t wearing makeup, but that was perfect.  
It honestly took Trixie until she was standing right beside her to notice her, and when she did turn to look at her, Katya’s heart finally dropped to her feet and all the calm she’d built up over the last few days left her.  
Trixie didn’t look great actually, not when Katya was this close. She could see her puffy eyes from lack of sleep, she could see how her makeup was just imperfect enough to betray she hadn’t really tried. Her clothes were wrinkly, her hair frizzing out of its up-do. It was funny how much Trixie wore her distress and made it obvious, so external about everything while Katya imploded.  
The shock across her face was a picture, too. Her already drawn-too-high eyebrows nearly hit her hairline, her eyes widening enough for her fake lashes to join them and her mouth opening and closing like a fish.  
“Hi.” Katya croaked out, looking at the old lady nervously as if she knew everything. The old lady evidently could not care less, and was peering through her glasses at a phone too high tech for her.  
Trixie turned away, going to get a brush and returning to the old woman as if Katya wasn’t even there. Katya cleared her throat.  
“Um. When you’re finished up over there, could you do me?” She asked, hoping she sounded casual but knowing she really didn’t.  
“I’d be happy to do it for you now, ma’am?” A lady to Katya’s left said, and she shook her head without looking at her.  
“I’ll wait.”  
And wait she did, as Trixie took an irresponsibly long time finishing the old woman, helping her choose out a new foundation and ringing her up at the counter. By the time Trixie finally begrudgingly turned to her, Katya was sure she had sweated the armpits out of her dress from just standing there nervously.  
Trixie fixed her with an impressively fake customer service smile, waved her over to the seat the old lady had been in.  
“What can I do for you today, ma’am?” She asked in a sickly sweet voice, and Katya prickled at her pretending not to know her.  
“Don’t call me ma’am, you know I hate that.” Katya said, tried to smile at her as she sat down. She already knew she wouldn’t be able to stick this weird last minute plan out the whole time Trixie did her face. “And uh, whatever is going to take you the longest amount of time.” She added masochistically. She could see Trixie scoff in the mirror behind her, grabbing a primer and a clean brush. She squirted some out on the back of her hand and ran the brush through it, but her smile faltered and she hesitated before she touched her skin.  
Trixie worked in silence as Katya cursed herself for not thinking this through. She didn’t even know what to say, didn’t know how to diffuse this tension, how to fix this.  
Come back, come back, come back.  
“Since when could you understand Russian?” She said finally, as Trixie had just began her foundation. Trixie paused with the sponge pressed to Katya’s face and frowned at her. “The other day, I mean. How did you know I said- what I said?”  
“Do you really want to talk about this right now?” Trixie asked, and Katya nodded without hesitation. Trixie sighed, kept bouncing the sponge against Katya’s face probably harder than she had to. “I just google translated it. It felt like it was important.”  
Katya nodded, knew that her skin must be burning red and that Trixie could definitely see.  
“I didn’t get it all, though. What you said after, I couldn’t remember it. At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if it was like, ‘I love you, but I’m definitely going to shoot you in the head’.” Her tone was casual, but Katya could see the tension in her shoulders. She gave her a sad little smile through the mirror.  
“You know from experience that I won’t shoot you.” She said quietly, trying not to alert Trixie’s coworker. Trixie met her eyes in the mirror, and Katya could see that they were beginning to water. “I said, my old heart, you are so beautiful.”  
Trixie sniffed, got back to work with her sponge.  
“Do you use anti-ageing cream? You might wanna have a look at something for your under eye area, and you should probably stop smoking.” She said casually.  
“Cheeky bitch.” Katya smirked, and Trixie found her eyes in the mirror again.  
The smirk fell from Katya’s face, and they just looked at each other. Katya had missed those goddamn eyes.  
“Come back.” She whispered, so quickly it surprised even her, so quietly she would have thought Trixie hadn’t heard her if she couldn’t see her eyes flutter closed and her forehead crinkle into a pained frown. “You told me if I told you to come back, you would. I’m telling you now.”  
Trixie opened her eyes again. Katya’s heart thundered in her chest, waiting for rejection, waiting for Trixie to laugh at her, waiting for Trixie to walk away and leave Katya sitting here empty with half a face of foundation on. God knows it’s what she deserved. She had never felt this small, this desperate, she wanted to run out the doors of the Macy’s and never think about Trixie again, but she made herself stay put, imagined herself glued to the chair. This was more important than her stupid neuroses, even if Trixie said no-  
“Okay.” Trixie said simply. “Okay.”

Katya waited for Trixie’s shift to be over, two impossibly long hours sitting outside Macy’s with her impeccably made-up face chainsmoking and praying she would actually walk through the doors at the end of it. She rang Violet, who had long since went back home, and blabbed the whole thing to her, and only when Violet exclaimed “You said you LOVED her?” did Katya remember she hadn’t told her the ins and outs yet.  
Trixie drove them back in the convertible Katya hated so much, rang Kim’s sister from the car phone and told her she would be back for her bags in the morning, that she was sorry to let her down about the apartment. Katya gripped her hand in the centre console the whole time, as if if she let go Trixie would fly off again.

When they got back home Katya wouldn’t even let her get through the door, had her lips against hers within seconds, and they stood in the hallway and kissed and kissed and kissed until Katya’s feet hurt. She pulled her up the stairs to bed with whispered apologies and compliments and constant contact, and they lay side by side in their clothes and kissed lazily until they fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave feedback, I love reading it even if I’m sometimes really slow getting back to you ♥️


End file.
